


Dancing on the Edge

by cvioleta



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gotham City - Freeform, Light Dom/sub, Los Angeles, Music, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2018-10-10 14:50:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 90,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10440186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cvioleta/pseuds/cvioleta
Summary: AU - The Joker is a famous rock star and Harleen Quinzel is an aspiring tour manager who lands a coveted summer job working for him.  She's about to learn that managing him has a lot broader list of responsibilities than they taught her about in school!No promises on update schedule - will try for every weekend but I'm so busy. (Edited to add: my current goal is once a month but I promise I won't abandon it)  This started writing itself when I was actually supposed to be writing something I get paid for. My computer is possessed, I swear it...I blame this fic on Jared Leto tweeting pictures of his crotch and distracting me from gainful employment. It is all his fault. 100%.  :-)





	1. Chapter 1

_There’s a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased that line._

_~ Oscar Levant_

                Harleen Quinzel couldn’t have been more nervous as she pulled up to the wrought iron gates. Despite checking the address fifty times and the GPS telling her she had arrived, she still felt the need to double-check the house number before she pulled up to the guard stationed there.  She couldn't see the house through the thick hedges, and could only imagine the embarrassment of pulling up to the wrong Malibu mansion.  They’d probably think she was some stalker and shoot her.  

                She provided her driver’s license to the bored security guard in the gatehouse.  Someone pulled up behind her in…oh _God,_ a Bentley.  Terrific. Now she was idling on a hill in an ancient, manual-transmission Volvo, inches ahead of a Bentley. What could possibly go wrong?  The guard handed back her ID and opened the gate and she quickly switched her foot to the accelerator, easing off the clutch with her heart in her throat.  Luck was with her today and her old Swedish battleship neither stalled nor rolled backward, but compliantly proceeded up the steep driveway that led to the house. 

                As she drove around the last curve, the house came into view.  It was even more startling than in the pictures she'd seen, a five-story Gothic monstrosity that she knew the Joker’s neighbors had complained about vociferously and tried to block the construction of – with no luck, of course. He’d assigned a team of four of the highest-priced Beverly Hills attorneys to making sure he got his own way, as well as allegedly instigating a subtle campaign of harassment of the neighbors who opposed him that included everything from voodoo dolls left on their porches to a Ferrari thoroughly decorated with Silly String.  No one could prove anything, of course – but TMZ had a field day with it, the neighbors decided it was not worth the drama and backed down, and the result was this iron-spiked, wrought-iron-laced deep purple behemoth rising into the Malibu sky in stark contrast to the cookie-cutter Mediterranean and mission style homes that ate up the rest of the coastline. 

                Relieved that she had arrived on time, Harleen parked around the side as she had been instructed, driving past the collection of spotless, six-figure vehicles that lined the driveway in front of the complex.  Off to the side, there was a small parking lot that clearly housed all the vehicles belonging to the help, although hers was still the worst.  _It’s good that you’re the winner at something,_ she thought sarcastically.  Oh well, she didn’t intend for things to stay that way, right? That’s why she was here, even though her anxiety was through the roof, her heart was in her stomach and she’d have given anything to have been back home, hiding in her room, preparing for another Saturday binge-watching whatever was good on Netflix with her two cats. 

                She had one semester left at Hollywood’s famous Musicians Institute, and while she’d done a good job learning all the technical details of the music business, she had seen what happened to graduates with good grades who failed to make the contacts they needed.  Sure, there was always work…if you wanted to work for free.  If you weren’t one of the rich kids and needed to pay the rent, you couldn’t take many months of discouragement before you wound up back at some hideous retail job, telling yourself you’d pursue your industry dreams in your spare time, which you didn’t have any of because you needed to work a second job to pay your student loans. 

                It was a short trip from that decision to being bitter and fifty and being the assistant manager at the Target on LaBrea and talking about what you _could_ have been, and Harleen had no intention of going down that path. She was going to be a tour manager, and this job was going to get her foot in the door.  It was only a junior assistant job, but the band was going on tour and as long as she didn’t screw it up, she’d be with them, making invaluable connections and showing people who mattered just how useful she could be.

                She gathered up her purse, making sure her notebook and a pen was inside, and grabbed her cell phone, checking the email again, even though she knew she was meeting with the Joker’s manager, Selina Kyle. Selina was one of her idols, the perfect combination of edgy rock chick and savvy businesswoman, exotically beautiful with almond shaped eyes and a lush mane of hair that she dyed purple.  She had managed him from the start, using the very qualities that had scared other managers off to make him a legend.  After all, who wanted a tame rock star?   What were a few arrests and rumors of unhinged behavior in an industry that had already embraced the likes of Ozzy Osbourne and Marilyn Manson? 

                Harleen couldn’t deny that dealing with someone like that sounded exciting.  The most exciting thing _she_ had ever done back home in Nebraska was drink a lot of beer, sleep with a teacher once to get a better grade (and because he was hot, she did have _some_ standards) and date a boy who _didn’t go to church_.  That was enough for the Midwest to consider her a troublemaker, but she quickly learned upon moving to L.A. that she was practically a nun as far as the West Coast was concerned.  Her roommate still couldn’t believe she’d never hooked up with another woman and was still trying to talk her into giving it a try.

                “How do you know you don’t like it if you haven’t tried it?” Ivy had asked her, giggling, her red curls bouncing around.  “You know, other girls have a lot better idea what gets us off than boys do.” 

                “Ew!” Harleen chucked a pillow at her, but she was laughing. “No, just no. I only swing one direction.”

                Ivy rolled her eyes. “Boring and one-dimensional.” 

                “I am not boring. You just don’t know me that well,” Harleen huffed.  _I nailed my hot science teacher in the lab senior year…you have no idea what I’m really like._

                “We’ve been living together for four months and you haven’t even had a date,” Ivy observed. “Looks pretty boring to me.”

                “I have a-“ Harleen started.

                “-Boyfriend?” Ivy cut in.  “No, you _had_ a boyfriend.  He hasn’t come out to see you since before we met.  He might be too much of a pussy to tell you, but he’s moved on.”

                That hurt, but only because it was accurate.  Harleen wasn’t really that upset about it.  Guy had seemed to be the coolest thing ever at Kearney High, but now that she had been in L.A. for a couple of years, she admitted she was losing interest as well.  L.A. had changed her and the bar had been set much higher. She wasn’t interested in settling and she had learned to live without companionship. 

                “Ivy, I’m picky.  I don’t want to be with someone boring just to be with someone.  I just haven’t met someone who does it for me.  You know that school is just full of wannabe rappers and rich boys who want to hang around musicians.  I don’t get much opportunity to meet anyone worth having,” Harleen explained. 

                “But you know like a zillion totally hot, interesting girls,” Ivy noted. “And…my point is made.  Can’t help ya if you’re going to keep banging your head against the wall of useless testosterone.”  Ivy dug around through the couch cushions, finally emerging with her car keys.  “OK, I gotta go to work.  Oh, don’t forget to call back Selina Kyle – I can’t believe they called you for that job and not me. You suck.” 

                “I love you too, bitch!” Harleen cheerfully called after her friend.

                She had called Selina back that afternoon and now here she was, at the Joker’s mansion. This was it!  She headed up the stairs and reached for the doorbell, but the door swung open as she did so.  _Of course,_ she thought, _they were watching me on video the whole time._ She hoped she hadn’t done anything weird or dumb.

                Selina herself answered the door.  “Harleen?” 

                “That’s me,” Harleen answered, immediately deciding that sounded idiotic, and inwardly groaning.  She watched as Selina looked her up and down, evaluating her.  The other woman was much taller and Harleen immediately felt like a dumb child who had wandered into an adult area she wasn’t permitted in.  She hoped she looked okay. On Ivy’s advice, she had worn a turquoise silk tank that set off her blue eyes, skinny jeans, Ivy’s black leather fitted jacket and a pair of black motorcycle boots she’d been lucky enough to find at the weekend flea market on Melrose.  She left her long blonde hair down.  After all, she wasn’t interviewing at a library. 

                “You want to look hot, but you also want to look ready to work, so no shoes you can’t run around in,” Ivy had told her.  Her roommate had more experience than she did actually working in the industry, having already been a production assistant on a bunch of music videos and even a talent escort on the Grammy Awards last year.  

                Selina didn’t say anything negative, so Harleen decided she must have passed muster. She merely motioned for the young woman to follow her.  “Come with me.  We’ve got some paperwork to fill out before we get started, and a busy day ahead. Most of what needs to get done today should have been done on Thursday but we had some complications on Thursday, which you will discover is often the case here. I hope you can roll with the punches.”

                Harleen nodded eagerly.  “Absolutely, you bet. I’m used to being super busy with school and work.”  She trotted after Selina, immediately noticing that her new supervisor did nothing slowly. 

                “Oh, you won’t be used to any of _this_ ,” Selina said, laughing. “But that’s why we start with having you sign a six-page NDA.”

                Harleen had no idea what a NDA was, but she remembered how lucky she was to be here, and obediently followed Selina into her office only to stop dead in her tracks.  The Joker was sitting, feet up, at what Harleen immediately realized was Selina’s desk from the collection of cat tchotchkes that had been shoved off the corner onto the floor by the Joker’s boots.  

                Selina let out an exasperated sigh.  “Could you kindly remove your feet from that contract?  It’s only going to make you twenty million dollars.”

                Harleen hovered quietly behind Selina, somewhat in shock at seeing one of her idols so close up. She had seen him in concert, of course, but that wasn’t the same.  Here he was, not ten feet away from her.  He was wearing jeans as skinny as hers with a tank top that looked like it had been run over by his tour bus and a collection of silver chains. He had his hands locked behind his head of electric green hair and was leaning back in the chair, displaying the most perfectly cut biceps Harleen had ever seen on a man.  He said nothing, just looked at Selina with amusement and grinned, displaying his trademark silver grill. 

                Selina didn’t hesitate. She walked up and unceremoniously shoved him by his crossed ankles, dumping his feet to the floor and snatching the papers off her desk. He laughed at her impertinence.  “Kitty has her claws out today.  Should I go put on my bulletproof vest?”  He stood up and, as he did so, he looked over Selina’s shoulder and his gaze settled on Harleen. 

                “I take that back.  Sweetheart!  You brought me a new toy?  You shouldn’t have.”  He charged around the desk so quickly that Harleen took a step back in surprise even as he grabbed her by both shoulders.  She couldn’t move an inch, and he was looking her up and down, inspecting her.  Harleen wasn’t sure if she could breathe, which was fine because she had no idea what to say and didn’t want to say the _wrong_ thing. 

                Selina seemed completely unfazed by his behavior.  “This is not a toy, this is your new junior tour assistant, Harleen Quinzel.   I don’t have any fucking time to deal with another lawsuit this week, so hands off.  If you’re bored, there is a flock of skank around the pool as usual.”  She gathered up her cats from the floor and rearranged them on her desk before sitting down in the chair he had vacated. 

                The Joker grinned but dutifully removed his hands from Harleen’s shoulders.  “Well, welcome to the team, Harleen!”  He giggled at his own rhyme and Harleen couldn’t help but join him. She relaxed a little and found her voice.

                “Thank you!  It’s an honor to be here.”

                He nodded approvingly.  “Yes.  Yes, it is. Did you hear that Selina?  At least _someone_ properly respects my musical genius.” 

                Selina snorted.  “Out.  We have work to do, and you’re a distraction.”

                The Joker winked at Harleen.  “Oh, I try.”  He turned around and swept from the room, leaving the door open. Harleen stared after him until Selina clapped her hands behind her, startling her.

                “Snap out of it, sunshine, sit down and pull out a pen.  I told you that you weren’t used to this, and that’s him on his _good_ behavior.”  Harleen turned around and sat down, involuntarily stretching her neck left and right to make it crack.  She swore she could still feel his handprints on her shoulders, he’d grabbed her so tight.  Selina picked up on it.  “You can leave now, if you want. No one will be upset with you. This job isn’t for everyone.”

                Harleen narrowed her eyes and dared to glare at Selina before she even thought about what she was doing.  “I’ll be fine. I can handle it.” 

                Selina just smiled and slid a stack of paperwork across the desk at her. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harleen takes her work home with her, much to Ivy's amusement. Harleen backstory, Batcat backstory, AU version.

  _Have goals so big, you feel uncomfortable telling small minded people._

_~ Author Unknown_

                Harleen banged into the apartment, startling Ivy who had fallen asleep on the couch. She had too many bags slung over her narrow shoulders, but making more than one trip up the stairs to their apartment just sounded a lot worse than suffering once. 

                “What the fuck is all of that?” Ivy asked, looking up over the back of the couch.

                “Probably not really my job, but I’m not going to make waves.  They’re behind on responding to fan mail because the last junior p.a. quit without notice, so they asked me to help catch up.”  She plopped the bags on the kitchen table and started to lay out neat stacks of signed 8 x 10’s of the Joker and envelopes. She opened up her laptop and set it up off to one side. 

                Ivy got up and wandered into the kitchen to peek at the bags of mail.  “Well, this should be entertaining.” She picked up an envelope.  “Oooh!  Central California Women’s Facility.  You’ve got fan mail from _prison_.”

                “ _Most_ of these women should be in prison,” Harleen snorted, grabbing a cold beer from the fridge before she sat down to work.  “You think you and I have dirty minds, you should read what they write to J!”

                “J, huh? _That_ cozy with the boss already?” Ivy teased, grabbing her own beer and popping it open. 

                Her roommate rolled her eyes.  “We’re not cozy, that’s just what everybody at the house calls him. I guess he likes it.  I mean, what else would you call him?  It’s weird to walk around calling someone by their stage name. Do you think Prince’s people called him Prince?”  She paused.  “What do you think they called him when he changed his name to a symbol?”

                Ivy laughed.  “I don’t know. These people are not real life.”  She grabbed a butter knife and started to open envelopes. 

                “You can say that again. You should have seen the non-disclosure agreement I had to sign today.  And Selina pretty much warned me that I’d better get used to having a poker face and seeing nothing no matter what I see…and it’s going to be some crazy shit because J is bad even for a rock star.”  She unfolded a letter and promptly dropped it.  “MY EYES.” 

                Ivy leaned over to see a picture had fallen out on the table. When she saw what it was, she drew back just as quickly.  “Ewww!  Maybe we should be wearing gloves to open this?  Jesus.  I think I just got scared straight by that.  The fuck is that, werewolf pussy?”  Both girls were laughing so hard tears started rolling down their faces. 

                “Oh. My. God.  Who _does_ this?”  Harleen was shaking her head in amazement.

                “Um,” Ivy picked up the envelope gingerly and read the return address.  “Marilyn Carter from Kentucky, apparently. She put her whole address here and – oh wait, something else is in here.  I think she actually sent a key to her apartment!”

                “Good LORD.  Do we have enough alcohol on hand to get through these?”  Harleen wrote “For Marilyn” above the pre-printed signature on a photograph and stuffed it into an envelope, typing the address into her laptop so that they could print off labels later. 

                “I think so but I might need a pizza,” Ivy observed. 

                “Ooooh, good plan.  Veggie Supreme from Lucifer’s?   They have vegan cheese.”

                “Perfect. I’ll buy, I got a bonus today at work.”  Ivy picked up the phone.  _A bonus, well, that must be nice,_ thought Harleen.  Her roommate had a cushy job that was perfect for her, tending the organic greenhouse of a wealthy elderly lady in Bel Air.  Ivy loved her work and her boss was thrilled to have met someone with such a commitment to taking flawless care of her plants, so it was not unusual for her to stop by and simply throw a few hundred dollar bills her way, in addition to her salary.  Harleen reminded herself that she was lucky that she was getting paid at all – it was easy enough to get people to work for free and call it an internship – but $12 an hour did not go far living in Los Angeles and she was often jealous of her friend’s disposable income.  She was lucky the old Swedish battleship had been kind to her and kept running, because there was no room for a car payment after her half of the rent, insurance and food. 

                _It won’t stay like this, though,_ she told herself.  _That’s why you’re doing everything you’re doing._ She thought about her sister, Lauren, back in Nebraska. Lauren and Harleen could not have been more different growing up. They loved each other, and did everything together, but from the start, Harleen always focused on becoming successful and accomplished. She wanted _out_ of Nebraska, and she wanted a life that was exciting and interesting. She wanted to travel and see the world. Lauren was the opposite. She loved their small town and the people in it, and wanted nothing more than to marry, have kids, and focus her life on the people she loved.

                Unfortunately, Lauren had not chosen wisely.

                Harleen had seen it coming the entire time.  At the start of junior year, Lauren hooked up with Jake.  _Jake the Snake_ , Harleen always called him in her head.  Sure, he was hot, but he was bad news.  He already had a DUI at the age of 17, and his tattoos didn’t quite hide his track marks.  Lauren thought she was going to save him and he played along, even going to church with her on Sunday mornings and charming the socks off Mom and Dad.  Harleen felt like she was the only person who saw through him, and he knew it too.  He sneered at her and teased her for being a teacher’s pet and a suck up.  Lauren assured her that he was just insecure about his own poor grades, but Harleen knew better.

                She wasn’t surprised when she found out that Lauren was using heroin.  Sad, but not surprised.  _Lie down with dogs, get up with fleas,_ her father always said, although even he was too slow to realize the threat that Jake posed until it was too late.  Harleen had always innately known how important it was to avoid bad influences. She was quick to leave parties if she felt pressured in any way, and had always had the self-confidence to say no to anything she didn’t want to be involved in.  It was one reason she knew even before she moved that she’d be just fine in L.A., even if her parents did think everybody out here was a drug addict and a homosexual.  Of course, nothing was wrong with the latter, but her parents were stuck in 1942 on that topic, so she had carefully left out some details about Ivy when telling her parents about her new roommate.   

                Not that they even called her much – they were far too busy dealing with Lauren. Jake was in jail, Lauren was in and out of rehab, had almost died twice in the past year, and Mom and Dad were raising her baby daughter, Olivia.  Lauren was two years younger than Harleen and for all intents and purposes, had already completely ruined her life.  It seemed like there was no way to halt her self-destructive spiral.  Harleen questioned constantly whether there was something she could have done to change things, but other than running Jake over with the Swedish battleship three years ago, couldn’t think of anything that might have worked.  She was just sad about it now.  Every time she talked to Lauren, Lauren begged her for money or a gift of something she could sell, and every time she refused, Lauren would pout and refuse to speak to her for another three months.  It was frustrating and Harleen dreamed of being able to afford to bring Lauren out to the West coast and put her in a really top-notch rehab.  _Someday._ If her sister didn’t die first.    

                Ivy sat back down and immediately picked up on Harleen’s expression.  “What’s wrong?”

                She shook her head.  “Nothing, I was just thinking about Lauren. I should check her Instagram, make sure she’s still alive.” 

                Ivy nodded.  “It sucks, I’m sorry.”  She slid the next envelope down the table.  “Here, that’s a nice one, from a kid.” 

                “Oh good, I like those,” Harleen smiled. “That pizza better get here soon, I’m starving!”

                “And again,” Ivy noted, “lesbians have the best ideas. A man would still be waiting for _you_ to make _him_ a sammich.”

                “Even I can’t disagree with that. You know it!”  They both laughed. 

* * *

 

                 Selina walked into her office and stopped short at the sight of J, draped across one of her chairs, engrossed in his tablet. 

                “This may come as a shock, but this is a 9,000 square foot house.  Why are you in the 600 square feet that I need for work?”

                “Maybe I like being in your way,” he answered, in what she thought of as his panty-melting voice, but Selina was completely immune.  She snorted and sat down at her desk.  “Oh please.” 

                He swung his legs off the arm of the chair and gave her an inquiring look.  “You’re working late.  _Bruce_ must be traveling.” 

                _Annoying,_ she thought.  The Joker was not only perceptive but always made it his business to know everything about the lives of anyone he let close to him.  From a business perspective, it made total sense. He had something significant on everyone in his inner circle…something _they_ didn’t want to have get out.  The concept of mutually assured destruction served him well in ensuring they would keep his secrets. 

In Selina’s case, he knew about her relationship with Bruce Wayne. Wayne was a billionaire with a wide variety of business interests and, unfortunately, a wife – a famous but psychotic actress he was afraid to leave because he knew she wasn’t mentally stable enough to be trusted alone with their son. Rumor had it she had actually drugged him in order to have sex with him and get pregnant, wanting a permanent claim on the Wayne empire. His son was the light of his life, and he was a busy man who was able to push aside thoughts of his own happiness – until he’d met Selina. 

**_Two years earlier_ **

                He would never forget the first time he saw her, at an afterparty in West Hollywood. Selina was standing out on the balcony in the moonlight, wearing a silver column dress that sparkled like starlight.  He had come out to get a little fresh air and was surprised to see her out there.  She was on her phone and as he drew closer, he could hear the annoyance in her voice.

                “I knew I shouldn’t have let him drive himself. Where _is_ he?  Well, you better figure it out.  I’m not the one who was supposed to be watching him.  I want an update in ten minutes. No longer.”  She ended the call and turned around, startled to see him but then she relaxed as she recognized him and realized he was the furthest thing from a reporter or a snitch.

                Selina slipped back into professional mode quickly and extended her hand with a smile.  “Mr. Wayne. What a pleasure to finally meet you.  I’m Selina Kyle.”

                He smiled and took her hand. “I know.  You’re quite the legend in our neighborhood.”  Bruce enjoyed watching her mouth drop.

                “If you’re one of the neighbors who didn’t like the house, I apologize, but I was-“

                “-just doing your job.  I know. I have bigger things to worry about than my neighbors’ taste in architecture,” he assured her.

                “I’m sure you do.  Actually, I understand we have a business relationship these days – you’ve purchased Astronomy?” 

                “I have.  I thought it would be fun to diversify a bit, and what red blooded American doesn’t want to own a rock and roll label?” 

                “Hey, that’s why we’re all in this business.  Living the dream,” she answered with a smile.  He was struck by how sexy she was without trying. She talked to him like any other business associate, without even a hint of flirtation, but her confidence was incredibly attractive.  It didn’t hurt that she was beautiful, of course, but it was more than that. It was the absolute lack of game playing that he was so used to seeing in women. As a rule, they all dissolved into this flirty/needy/cutesy persona that they thought he would find attractive, but it was an absolute turn off.  He’d seen his wife play that game a thousand times to get what she wanted and it disgusted him how often it worked. 

                With this woman, there was none of that. She was just herself.  She wasn’t trying to impress him. She was actually having a conversation with him like an equal.  _Like another human being,_ he thought.  He was about to ask her to go get a drink with him when her phone rang.

                “Excuse me,” she said, and answered.  “Yeah.”  There was a long pause, and Bruce could hear stammering as the person on the other end of the line explained something.  “You have got to be kidding. Where is he? Exactly.”  Another pause.  “No. I don’t want you to do anything except tell him I am on my way and he is not to speak to anyone.”  She hung up and slipped her phone back into her evening bag.  “I’m sorry, I’m going to have to go.  Work.”

                “Can I take you?  My driver’s here with my car.”

                “No, I’ve got –“  Selina stopped short, realizing she didn’t have a car. She’d already sent _her_ driver to help that useless idiot Mario figure out where J had disappeared to.  _Fuck._   Even getting an Uber was going to be impossible on Emmy night, much less a proper car. 

                Bruce gestured down toward the circular driveway and the sea of limos.  “I’m happy to take you.” 

                She pressed her lips into a thin line.  Normally, she would have refused – who knew what he’d see if he accompanied her? But this was Bruce Wayne, not a nobody who had something to gain.  He was the best option she had at the moment.  “That would be great. I need to get to Sunset just west of Stone Canyon.”

                “Follow me.  Dare I ask what this is about?” He took her arm and led her toward the stairs that would take them down to the main level without going back through the house. 

                _Well, he was about to see it anyway_ , she thought.  “My boss was stopped for speeding, but instead of simply taking the ticket, he started arguing with them and now they are threatening to arrest him and impound the car.”

                “Ah.  It would be a shame about the car, that’s a really nice Lamborghini,” he quipped and Selina started laughing despite her predicament. 

                “I like how you think, Mr. Wayne.”

                “Bruce.  And we’re getting a drink when this is over.”

                “Oh, I’ll _need_ a drink when this is over!” she assured him.

**_Present day_ **

                Selina had kept the police from dragging J off, saved the car, and drinks with Bruce had ended up being drinks with Bruce at his Malibu mansion and talking until 4 in the morning.  She rarely allowed herself the luxury of a personal relationship, but she found herself undeniably attracted to him.  Selina was nothing if not discreet, and the only reason _anyone_ knew about their relationship is that J had enabled tracking on all of their work phones (without their knowledge, _so_ illegal, but not surprising as he was a massive control freak) and had been watching her late night trips to Wayne’s beach house with great amusement for months before he let on.

                “He is out of town, thank you for your concern,” she informed J.  He had already gone back to staring intently at his tablet.  “What are you so focused on?  Candy Crush level 824 kicking your ass?” she inquired sweetly.  Selina wasn’t even joking. She’d found out about his secret vice months ago and now missed no opportunity to tease him about his less-than-cool gaming habits.  She was also well aware that she was one of the only people on earth he _let_ give him shit, so there was no sense not taking advantage of it. 

                “Researching my new toy,” he said, and flipped the tablet around to show her a picture of a teenage Harleen making silly faces into the camera with another blonde girl who resembled her.  “That’s her sister, who seems like the fun one of the two.  Drug possession, DUI, shoplifting…can we hire her too?  Pretty please?” 

                Selina rolled her eyes.  “Again. She is not your toy, she is here to work and I’d appreciate if you didn’t scare her off like you did the last one.  Harleen has a brain and a work ethic, and those aren’t easy to find.  She even took work home tonight.” 

                He shrugged.  “I didn’t _try_ to scare off Leann. It wasn’t _deliberate._ ”

                “You almost shot her with an arrow!  You’re _so_ lucky she didn’t sell that story.”

                “I didn’t know she was in the yard.  I’m glad this one is a blonde, they’re _much_ easier to see.”

                Selina put her head down on her desk and growled from behind her crossed arms.  “Out…of my office.  Out.”  He started cackling like she was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.  Selina raised her head, “And stop stalking that girl.”

                He just grinned at her as he left.  As soon as he was gone, she went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine.  _It’s a wonder I’m not an alcoholic,_ she thought, and pulled up the calendar on her phone, unable to resist counting the days left until Bruce was back in town.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> J starts trying to get into Harleen's head and other things, while Selina continues to teach her new protegee about the business.
> 
> Gets a little smutty at the end but _no_ not with J x H yet...what kind of a girl do you think she is? I know how you people think... :D (...ummm yeah, because I'm one of you people and I'm just as bad)

_“Who are you?_  
Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies?  
Have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them?  
I have. I am fucking crazy.  
But I am free.”   
                                   ― Lana del Rey

                “All right, I’ve probably fried your brain enough for one morning,” Selina observed as she and Harleen walked down the elegant marble staircase that was the centerpiece of the house. “We can break for lunch.  The kitchen here is all yours – you can help yourself to anything you like, you can have the chef make something for you.  One of the perks of working here.”

                “That’s great, thanks!  You coming?”  Harleen had stopped being nervous around Selina and was starting to see her as a friend.  They were both ambitious, yet not cruel or lacking in ethics.  Both understood bending rules when necessary, but didn’t bend them as a matter of course.  They also discovered they were both devoted cat owners; Selina had Siamese (a perfect match for Selina, Harleen thought – if Selina were a cat, that’s the kind she’d be), whereas Harleen just had two white-pawed tabby cats from the shelter.

                “No, I’ve probably got a little time left before J gets back from the studio so I’m going to make good use of it and sneak out to run some errands.  If he gets here and I’m still gone, you’re welcome to sit down with him and go over the travel arrangements we just made, make sure it’s all to his liking.”

                Harleen nodded, although the thought of sitting down with him without Selina present made her anxious. She was still a little intimidated about working for someone so famous, and eternally worried she’d screw something up or say the wrong thing.  But it was Friday afternoon and she had almost survived her first week, so that was something to celebrate!  She knew many girls who hadn’t lasted that long in this kind of job.    

                She headed off to the kitchen and fixed herself a huge salad, ignoring the chef’s offers to make her something more elaborate, and took it out to the balcony with her.  It was her favorite place in the house, with a spectacular view of the ocean.  Seagulls swooped in and out, hoping she’d drop something tasty.  The sky was clear and blue today and from her vantage point, she could see many miles down the coastline and watch people jogging on the beach or walking in the surf.  Below her was the pool on the main level, an infinity pool that was hypnotic to watch. 

                _I haven’t even been down to the water yet,_ she thought, and made a mental note to take a walk after work.  It was all so beautiful, and so different from the flat and plain world she’d grown up in.  Money might not buy happiness, but she wasn’t convinced that living in a place like this didn’t _constitute_ happiness. 

                “Harley!  What a _nice_ surprise. May I join you?”

                She twisted around in her chair in surprise.  She’d been so busy looking at the beach and lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t even heard the Joker walk up behind her.

                “Um…sure. It’s Harleen.”

                He was wearing black jeans and a pale denim shirt he hadn’t bothered to button, so it swung open as he walked to display the tattoos that covered his chest and stomach.  He was in insanely good shape, she noticed, but of course that was not surprising – the house had a full gym and she knew his personal trainer visited several times a week.   He sat down across from her, grinning as usual.

                “ _Harleen_ sounds like the name of the girl who won the Teenage Miss Pageant in FuckYerCousin, Kentucky.  You need a cooler name if you’re going to be in this business.  You’re Harley now.”

                She sighed, admitting defeat.  “You’re the boss, call me whatever you like.”

                “I will.”  He took a drink of what looked like a bottled water but Harleen suspected there was something more to it.  She knew he drank a ridiculous amount of vodka from talking to Selina.

                _You’re at work, stop staring at his chest. He knows you’re doing it, that’s why he’s smiling._

                “Selina and I made your travel plans for London,” Harleen told him in her most professional voice.  “Would you like to take a few minutes to review them and see if you’d like any changes?”

                He dismissed that idea with a gesture.  “It’ll be fine.  She knows what I like.” 

                “Well, I’m trying to learn, so I’d appreciate your input.”

                “I’d rather talk about you,” he replied, leaning over the table and grinning at her.    

                Harleen laughed.  “That would be boring.”

                “I doubt it.  Do you have a boyfriend?”  He smiled at her reaction as she choked on her salad and tried her best to hide it. 

                “Uh…I’m not sure why you need to know that?”

                “Oooh, touchy!  A girlfriend?  Both?  This doesn’t sound boring to me,” he cackled.

                “Neither!  None, nothing.  All I do is go to class and come here and…watch TV with my cats.”  Harleen immediately regretted her outburst.  She’d just managed to portray herself as far too naïve and boring to even be in this job.  She should have made up a better backstory. The Joker found her words and her reactions equally amusing, and that made her mad, which he picked up on instantly.

                “I’m not laughing at you.  I’m _entertained_ by you.  Why aren’t you trying to be a model or an actress like every other girl I meet?”

                “Not interested in jobs that last five years and involve starvation and lip injections,” she shot back.  Although she was pretty enough that she’d had offers to act and model, it always seemed like a lousy deal to Harleen. She saw the pressure those girls were under and the way they were treated, and wasn’t the least bit tempted. 

                “ _Most_ people can’t resist fame.  Even fifteen minutes of it.”

                “I don’t know, it looks like a tough gig from what I’ve seen of it,” she answered.  “You’re under a lot of stress.”

                He blinked, taken aback by her comment.  “No one ever sees that.”   He got up and stood at the balcony, looking out to the ocean, and for once he was silent. 

                _Oh shit, that was too personal,_ Harleen thought.  _You shouldn’t have gone there. I hope he’s not pissed?_ In her nervousness, she’d forgotten entirely that he was the one who’d started with the personal questions.  Now she was just worried she’d offended him. 

                He turned back to her after a second and she was struck anew by how handsome he was.  He wasn’t her usual type, she’d always gone for more conservative guys, but it was easy to see why millions of women drooled over him as he stood there, the ocean breeze blowing his shirt away from his lean body and a faraway look in his ice blue eyes.  She reminded herself that she had no business looking at him that way and it wasn’t like he’d ever be interested in her, even if she wasn’t an employee.

                “Do you know what it costs to maintain all of this every month?”

                She shook her head. 

                “Around $350,000.  The houses, the vehicles, the salaries, the service providers, marketing, promotion, legal, everybody getting their cut of everything.  It’s all on me.”

                Harleen stared in amazement. That was more money in a month than her parents’ house was worth back home.  Heck, you could buy three houses in Kearney for that.  It was mind boggling.

                “I can’t even imagine,” she answered honestly, wondering if he knew how poorly he was paying her.

                “No, you can’t.  So the next time Kitty is moaning and groaning to you about the things I do, remember this – I’m it. _I’m_ the reason for everything _any_ of you do, _I’m_ the reason you get paid, and once in a while, _I_ need a good laugh at the expense of it all.  The industry, the fucktards I have to deal with, the grasping, pathetic, power-hungry idiots, all the people _stupid_ enough to think they can use me.”

                He was in rant mode now and she knew enough to simply be quiet and be an attentive audience.  It was a little scary but she knew it wasn’t directed at her.  _Crazy how fast his moods can change,_ she thought. _No wonder Selina has learned to stay so calm._

                He slid back into his chair, suddenly and leaned across the table at her, running his hands through his green hair until it stuck up in all directions.  “Harley, tell me the truth.  Do you think I’m a crazy out-of-control addict?” 

                “No,” she answered honestly.  “I think you know exactly what you’re doing and you use being drunk and high as an excuse.”

                She didn’t even have the time to think about all the trouble her comment could have gotten her into but it was the first thing that came to mind, after years of seeing Lauren do the exact same thing. He howled with laughter, absolutely delighted with her answer.

                “You’re going to go far, Harley.”  He was still laughing as he got up and walked away, leaving her torn between relief that their conversation was over, and regret that it didn’t continue.

* * *

                Selina returned that afternoon and they spent the rest of the day sitting in her office going over crisis management – or in other words, what Selina wanted done in various types of J-behaving-badly situations. 

                “Most things go away with money, and fortunately there is no shortage of money, although things are running a bit thin which is why it’s time for him to go out on tour again,” she explained.  “Artists make little to nothing selling music, as you probably know.  The money comes from touring and endorsements, any marketing things like that.  Paid appearances. It’s a little-known fact that almost anybody can be hired to play your private event – for the right price.  J has done it, but he only does it out of the country and he keeps it quiet. It’s not highly thought of but if someone is going to give you a million dollars for a couple of hours of work, it doesn’t make sense to say no.  That reminds me, do you have a passport?” 

                “No. I’ve never been out of the country,” Harleen admitted. 

                “Well, get one, because that’s going to change.”  She saw Harleen’s eyes light up. That was the best thing about the girl; not only could she follow directions, but she was hungry enough that Selina knew she wouldn’t start complaining the first time the work week went over 40 hours or she didn’t get a lunch break.  Harleen _wanted_ this and was willing to do what it took. She had already shown she wasn’t a princess by getting them caught up on the fan mail, the most tedious of all tedious chores, in the first three days. 

                “I’ve always wanted to travel, just never had the budget or a reason to.”

                Selina laughed.  “Well, don’t get too excited.  It’s mostly dragging stuff through airports and making sure J doesn’t get arrested in countries that don’t have a presumption of innocence.”

                “Good times!” 

                “People used to say we were having an affair because we shared a room sometimes. No.  We shared a room so I could _watch_ him.  He let me – as much as he complains about me, he knows he’d be screwed without me.”

                Harleen smiled, thinking of the Joker ranting about Selina at lunch.  It was true.  He might complain but deep down, he knew he was lucky to have her around. 

                “All right, I think we’ve done enough today.  Next week we’ll start going over the individual tour dates and our to-do list for each, and we’re going to have lunch with our marketer at the agency so that I can introduce you to her,” Selina told her, as she gathered up her bags. 

                _Wow, she goes home?_ Harleen thought.  She wondered where Selina lived and if she had a nice place.  She had to be making a lot, with all she had done for J and how long they’d been working together. Her wardrobe certainly suggested she did and Harleen had been drooling over the classic Jaguar convertible that she drove all week, with its butter soft leather and shiny leaping cat on the hood.  That car had quickly made her short list of “Things to Buy Someday When I Have Money.”   

                “I think I’m going to go for a walk on the beach, if that’s okay?” Harleen asked.  “I realized I haven’t even stuck my foot in the ocean in a year.”

                “Of course it’s okay.  When I lived east of the 405, I never did either.  You might as well be on another planet.  Enjoy the beach, the traffic will be a lot better to drive home in after seven, anyway.”

* * *

_Who the fuck is on my beach again?_

                The Joker reached for his binoculars to inspect the figure he could only dimly see in the twilight.  They were _definitely_ above the high tide line and that was _not_ legal or acceptable   

                “What looking at?” piped up the girl who was currently licking her way down his stomach into his swim trunks. They had gone for a swim and ended up on the cushions next to the pool. He was almost paying attention to her until he got distracted. 

                “Nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart,” he responded automatically, without ever taking his eyes off the beach.  She didn’t stop what she was doing or argue with him further; he knew she would not.  Sasha or Tasha, he couldn’t remember which, was so excited to be here for fashion week and even more excited to meet a famous rock star.  She didn’t speak much English but he hadn’t brought her home to have an intelligent conversation with. 

                It wasn’t even like you had to seduce these girls or put in any effort. You barely had to talk to them. You just invited them over and pushed their head down and they got to work.  It was boring, really.  Just once it would have been exciting if one would say no or make him work for it, but that hadn’t happened in so long he could hardly remember.  Still, it had been a long week and this wasn’t exactly an _unpleasant_ way to spend the evening…

                The figure on the beach walked into the last stripe of sunlight and he saw her golden hair.  It was his assistant, Harley. She had rolled her jeans up and was holding her shoes in one hand while she walked through the water.  Unaware she was being watched, she twirled around and kicked at the water.  She had let her hair free and it swung around her as she twirled, a golden curtain. He imagined it trailing over his stomach, imagined it was her sassy little mouth on his cock right now…

                _Fuck._ He closed his eyes and let his mind wander down that road, breathing heavily.  Sasha/Tasha heard him and, taking it as a sign she was doing a good job, redoubled her efforts.  He dimly heard her say something to him but shushed her, not wanting her voice to interrupt his fantasy.  Reaching down, he wound his hand around her long, silky hair – that fit with the image in his mind, anyway. 

                He’d like to walk out there right now, and push her down in the water…

                He had been imagining bending her over the balcony at lunch today.  He’d seen her checking him out, but she was the same type as Selina, just because she wanted something didn’t mean she’d act upon it.  She’d think about what was _wise,_ she’d think about her _career,_ she’d think about her _reputation._

                That kind of self-control was absolutely foreign to the Joker, and he found it fascinating, an alien concept to be understood and, of course, broken down.

                After all, he was the king and the king always got what he wanted. 

                He zoomed in with the binoculars and watched Harley’s face as she played in the water.  She paused for a second and looked up at the house, up at _him_ even if she didn’t know it, and an unmistakable expression of want crossed her face, her lips parting. Her eyes closed. 

                With a groan, he came into the girl’s mouth, running his hands through her hair.  As he caught his breath, he watched Harley walking down the beach.  _I’d like to kick Sasha/Tasha out right now and go down there_ , he thought. _But now is not the time._

                Her words from that afternoon came back to him. _I think you know exactly what you’re doing and you use being drunk and high as an excuse_. 

                _That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work as one, even on you_ , he thought, amused as usual and plotting his next move. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With less than a week left before they go on tour, who thinks Mr. J can behave himself until then? Meanwhile, Selina has started to want something other than being tied to this job 24/7, and that's not going to go over well...

_Whoever is on the playing field is fair game_

_and it’s up to them to avoid being used – Cliff Burton_

                The office phone and her cell phone were ringing at once and, when she looked down at the latter, there was a notification of a text from Bruce up on the screen.  She ignored the call in favor of clicking on the message instead.

                _Cx lunch today. T showed up. Not sure for how long._

                _Well that was just fucking awesome._ Selina was having the Monday to end all Mondays.  It was only a week before the tour started and so far today, some idiot had hurt his foot while loading the truck and had to go to the emergency room.  The truck was having some weird issue with the fuel pressure fluctuating, despite the fact that it had just been in for service, so that needed to go back in, but she didn’t have anyone available to take it.  J was off somewhere not answering her calls and she was on edge waiting to see if she heard from him, the police, or some photographer she’d need to pay off.  She’d sent Harleen to take the injured employee to the hospital and make sure they got good documentation so he couldn’t exaggerate his injuries later and sue, but that left her with no help here and the phones were going absolutely insane. 

                And now she couldn’t even escape for lunch to the beach house as she’d planned, because Bruce’s fucking _wife_ , who was supposed to be on location in Greece until Wednesday, had decided to make an appearance. 

                “Selina Kyle,” she said, finally deciding to answer the office phone. 

                “Hi, it’s Vicki!  I know you must be _so_ busy right now but we were wondering if we could get just a _quick_ interview with the Joker this week?  _Totally_ when and where it’s convenient for you, of course.”

                Selina groaned inside.  Vicki was her least favorite kind of reporter – the kind who acted dumb but was really a manipulative little bitch, famous for making her subjects feel comfortable with her and then getting some really juicy gossip out of them.  She pretended to be interested in promoting the musicians, but Selina knew her only real interest was promoting herself.

                “I don’t think I can squeeze it in, we’re leaving in five days and he’s already overscheduled.”  A lie – Selina _never_ overscheduled him.  If anything she underscheduled him and left plenty of flexibility on time in case she couldn’t find him like this morning.  “Maybe we can do something remote, from the road?”

                Vicki made a disappointed noise.  “Noooo, I really need to sit down with him.  Look, I’m not supposed to tell you this but if we do this, my editor’s willing to bump Monster T from the cover.  He thinks he’s getting it but it’s not a done deal yet.  With all the controversy between them right now, you know it would be ah-mazing for all involved.”

                Selina sighed, already knowing what her answer was going to have to be. The Joker and Monster T were engaged in a well-publicized feud after the rapper had released a track in which he mocked some other artists, including some thinly veiled jabs at the Joker.  J had absolutely _lost his shit_ and Selina had her hands full convincing him that she would handle it, that she had her ways.  The primary way being that Bruce Wayne, unbeknownst to the Joker as it was well hidden behind multiple LLC’s, now owned a controlling interest in Monster T’s label.  Things had already started to go wrong for the rapper, but J wasn’t a patient man and Selina knew he was dying to get in a good return hit.  This, at least, was a socially acceptable one. 

                “Tomorrow at 2.  We’ll come to you,” Selina answered.  It made her nervous to have Vicki in the house. J was too comfortable there and forgot to be on his guard. 

                Vicki squealed.  “Terrific!”

                “But the cover is non-negotiable.  Make sure you can make it happen,” Selina ordered. 

                “You’ve got it.  See ya tomorrow!”   

                As she hung up the phone, the Joker wandered in, looking strangely well rested.  He was barefoot, wearing a vintage Black Sabbath t-shirt, clean but frayed jeans and Gucci sunglasses.  She noticed he left a trail of sand on her hardwood floor and scowled as he flopped into the chair across from her.

                “Where have you been?” Selina snapped at him. 

                She couldn’t see his expression through the dark sunglasses, but he shrugged his shoulders.  “I slept in Ozzie’s guesthouse after the fundraiser.”

                _What fundraiser?_  

                “When did you become charitable, and was this an event where they don’t allow phones? I’ve been trying to reach you since 11 last night.”

                The Joker yawned and stretched.  “Oh, you know, his wife is trying to save the children in one of those Eastern European countries. I don’t remember which.  We got bored while she was giving a speech and went out to the beach and got stoned.”

 _That sounds like your definition of charity,_ Selina thought.

                “Ozzie’s in the guest room on the east end of the house,” J continued.  “Marina kicked him out but we’re leaving in five days anyway so I told him he could just crash here.”

 _Wouldn’t be a tour without drama, would it?_ Terrific.  Ozzie, the bass player, was either going to be having long, tearful phone calls the whole time trying to get his wife to forgive him, or he was going to revel in his newfound freedom and bang every groupie they encountered, which of course would give the Joker a partner in crime and ramp his own bad behavior up x100.  Probably both. 

                “Fine,” Selina agreed.  “Your seamstress will be here in 45 minutes for final fittings, so please go take a shower and get the sand off.  You’ve got a lot of publicity to do the next few days so can we just agree that you’ll stay reasonably coherent through Friday?”

                “Kitty, I’m offended.  When am _I_ not coherent?  I’m funnier in interviews when I’m drunk.  They love me.”

                She frowned, because it was true.  He was hilarious when he was drunk, although she knew he played a lot drunker than he ever felt because it was part of his image. 

                “Vicki is interviewing you tomorrow at 2. I just scheduled it.  You know you have to be careful with her but it’s going to be worth it.”

                She knew that would get his attention and it did.  He even took off his sunglasses and looked at her.  “Why’s that?”

                “I was playing hard to get on your behalf,” Selina told him, “and then she offered to kick Monster T off the cover for you if you did the interview.”  She smiled as he jumped forward to the edge of the chair and his face lit up as he laughed at the thought.

                "Called me old.  Well my _old_ ass is gonna be on that cover instead of his,” J smirked.  “People would rather see me anyway. Every time I see that stupid ring in his noise, I want to oink at him.”

                Selina laughed.  “Please don’t.  As you yourself have pointed out, he’s just having his fifteen minutes, whereas you’ve been at the top for ten years.  He isn’t worth a response.  We’re just going to take what he wants away from him – because we can.”

                He chuckled. “Where’s Harley?”

                “ _Harleen_ is at the hospital with one of your roadies who managed to drop an amp on his foot today while loading the truck that has to go back to the shop anyway because it’s still having that fuel pressure issue.”

                “Sounds like a fun day. And she’s Harley now, I renamed her.”

                Selina raised her elegant eyebrows.  “Does _she_ know this?”

                He leaned over the desk, so close to Selina’s face that she would have been uncomfortable if she didn’t know him so well.  He looked absolutely delighted.  “She even agreed to it.”  He rapped his knuckles on the desk with a flourish and left, singing under his breath on his way out.

 _Hmmm.  What had happened Friday night and how had discussing London morphed into renaming Harleen?_ She was going to have to watch the girl a little more carefully.  She already knew J had a thing for her but that wasn’t unusual; flirting was in his nature.  He’d even hit on _her_ for months when they first started working together, but Selina was already an old pro in the business and had long since trained herself to completely ignore artists, no matter how charming.  Harleen though, was too new.  She could easily fall for his bullshit. Selina made a mental note to have a cautionary word with her about it.

                There was a knock on her office door.  “Come in,” she called.  One of the maids entered, practically tipping over with the weight of a huge vase full of red roses.  She set it on Selina’s coffee table and excused herself.  Selina automatically looked at her phone.

_7 p.m. Saturday, my office.  Key’s in the flowers – elevator code 5521._

                She walked over and carefully parted the mass of roses to find a tiny silver bag hanging in the middle with a key inside.  Despite herself, she smiled at the key in her palm.  This day had most definitely taken a turn for the better.  Now she had something to look forward to, if she could just keep from losing her mind for the next four days.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Selina's birthday and she has plans, but the Joker remains unconvinced that the world doesn't revolve around him. Someone's going to get a surprise...or maybe more than one person.

At the last moment she thought, I'm not ready.  
But she already knew the answer to that.  
Nobody was ever ready.

                       ~ L.J. Smith

 

          It had been a long week but, amazingly, they were perfectly on schedule at this point. Selina sighed with relief as she slipped behind the wheel of her classic Jaguar.  The truck was running, nobody else had gotten hurt or dropped out, the interviews had all gone well. 

          The Joker had practically charmed the pants off of Vicki, who had in return written an article so flattering that it read like a P.R. piece.  She’d even included a verbatim quote from J about how all the real artists in this town respected each other, inferring that he was part of an elite club to which Monster T would never gain access.  Between that and the lost cover, Selina imagined the rapper’s head might explode when the magazine came out.

          J had been on his very best behavior, which was usually a sign that J was about to be on his very worst behavior. She was more than a little worried that he was saving it up to shock small town America with, a pastime he particularly enjoyed. 

          However – she was not going to worry about that tonight.  It was her birthday, things were under control for the moment, and her presence had been requested at Bruce’s office. She knew Talia was still in town. It wasn’t hard to know where she was at any given time, since she had a habit of notifying the paparazzi and making sure she was always being photographed.  Today, she and Bruce and their son Damien had gone shopping and out to lunch in Malibu.  Talia was always the picture-perfect wife and mother if cameras were present and today’s photo set was no exception. She looked flawless in a blue printed sundress and a floppy hat, smiling and happy.  Bruce was smiling, too, but it was directed toward his young son.  Selina wondered how difficult she was being to deal with at home, but she was sure she’d hear about it shortly 

          The drive downtown took forever, as it always did on a Saturday night but finally Selina was pulling into the underground parking.  She parked the car, touched up her lipstick and got out, smoothing down her dress as she did so.  It was sexier than her usual style, a black vintage dress with a deep sweetheart neckline and a narrow purple belt that matched her hair, and she knew Bruce would love it. Her hair was down, a silky curtain of purple that swung when she walked, and she wore black lace Louboutin stiletto heels.  She didn’t need the height but Bruce was so tall she didn’t have to worry that four inches of heel would leave her looking down on him, as they would have with most men. 

          The elevator went straight up to the penthouse which served as his West coast office.  Selina stepped inside and heard music coming from the conference room so she headed in that direction.  Bruce met her at the door, wearing a black tuxedo and smiling.

          “I would have loved to have taken you out, but I didn’t think I could sit across from you anymore and make people believe we were having a business meeting.”

          She smiled.  “I don’t think I could, either, and here I don’t have to behave myself.”   He held out his arms and she sank into them as he kissed her. 

          “I’d be _terribly_ disappointed if you behaved yourself,” he said with a low chuckle. 

          The elevator dinged.  “Excuse me for a moment, that’s dinner.”  Selina stayed where she was, sensing it was best not to be seen by anyone, and Bruce returned in a minute wheeling in a cart with food and wine.  He started to lay everything out on the conference table and waved her away when she tried to help. 

          “I love this place.  It has the sexiest waiters,” Selina purred.  Bruce grinned and made a show of gallantly pulling out the chair for her.  The conference room was lit only by candlelight and, given its opulence, it wasn’t even hard to imagine it as a private dining room in some exclusive restaurant.  He seated himself and they began to eat.  Selina hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now; the week had been so crazy that she had skipped numerous meals simply because she’d forgotten about them.

                The food was amazing, but then, everything tended to be amazing around Bruce.  Money might not buy happiness, but it bought many other things Selina enjoyed.  And it just felt good, for once, to be the center of attention, she thought.  Her entire life, whoever she worked for had been the center of attention but when she was with Bruce, he acted like she was the most important person in the world, and she loved it.  She’d never felt like that with anyone. _Certainly_ not with her parents, who were both far more concerned with business than they were with her.

                “So…how’s it going at home?”  she asked.  “You looked a little stressed in this morning’s pictures.” 

                He sighed. “I really don’t want you to have to spend your birthday listening to me complain.”

                “It’s fine.  You listen to me complain all the time.  I thought she wasn’t even supposed to be home until today?”

                “She wasn’t.  But as usual, she got in a fight. This time with Drake Russo, and decided she wouldn’t film any more scenes with him.  Jumped on a plane and showed up at home.”

                Selina shook her head.  “How does she keep getting away with that crap?”  She knew the answer though – Talia made money.   Audiences loved her exotic looks and seemingly sweet personality.   She made sure she was always photographed, always in the forefront of everybody’s mind.  Talia had mastered the publicity game – she’d send out tweets that made her relatable, she’d get involved on a surface level in causes and charities that made her look good.  She had wanted Bruce because Bruce fit her image.  He was handsome, successful, and would never do anything to embarrass her.  By the time he was even halfway aware of the kind of person she truly was, she was several months’ pregnant with his son, and he had married her.  Bruce had grown up without his own parents after they perished in a double murder when he was young, and there was no way his son was going to grow up without his.   He had done the right thing, and sentenced himself to a life with a manipulative bitch who wanted a good looking family to pose with.  

                “I think she was sleeping with him, they broke up and she threw a fit.  Not that I care who she sleeps with,” he was quick to assure her, “but Drake is not a big name yet.  I’m concerned he’ll decide to get some attention by giving an interview about her, and I don’t need my son reading that.”

                She raised her eyes to meet his.  “Do you think he needs a warning?  I can help if you’d like.”  Selina watched as Bruce’s good nature warred with his desire to protect his son. She already knew which would win. 

                “I’d feel better if I knew he wouldn’t talk,” Bruce admitted.

                “Done.” 

                He looked relieved.  _It must be hard, living with that kind of moral compass,_ she thought.  Selina herself didn’t fight those mental battles.  She was fortunate to have some useful family connections and she did not hesitate to use them when necessary.  If she could use them this time to remove a little stress from Bruce’s life, she was happy to do so.  He looked entirely too tense these days. 

                “Great.  Now let’s change the subject.  You look smoking hot in that dress.  Don’t _ever_ wear that around me in public because some pap will get a picture of me with my mouth hanging open.” 

                “That was kind of the _point_ of the dress,” she noted, as she felt his hand casually land on her thigh and play with the hem of the short skirt.  She picked up her fork and tried to continue eating but she couldn’t resist looking over at him and that was it, a second later they were kissing.  He had both hands in her hair and she started unbuttoning his jacket; there was entirely too much fabric between them.  Selina got it open and slid her hands up underneath it, feeling the muscles of his back through the thin shirt.  _God, he felt good._ It had been far too long.  

                The familiar ring of her phone interrupted.  Bruce knew it all too well; it wasn’t the first time it had interrupted them, and he knew she would answer no matter how much he wished otherwise.  With a frustrated sigh, she pushed herself away from him and picked up the phone.

                “Selina Kyle.”  There was a long pause.  “Yes.  I can be there in a half hour.  Can I please ask that you just sit tight until then?  His counsel will be arriving with me.  Thank you.”

                Selina hung up the phone and turned to Bruce but he cut her off before she could even speak.

                “You’re _not_ telling me you have to go.”

                She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

                “Even on your birthday. No one else is capable of extricating the Joker from the latest mess he’s gotten himself into?”  His frustration was evident and Selina knew it was justified.

                “Harleen’s barely 21, she’d be in over her head. I’m calling his attorney anyway but he’s an attorney – he might get him out of the police station, but he’s not going to make sure nobody gets a picture and get him home.  _I_ have to go.”  She headed for the door but he stepped in front of her.

                “ _You_ were already babysitting him at 21, as I recall,” he pointed out.  “And I can make you a much…better offer to stay here.”  He refused to move and started kissing her neck, making her shiver. 

          Selina didn’t _want_ to leave. So J was at the police station again, wasn’t that just another Saturday night? He’d damned well known she had plans and he’d probably done it deliberately.  He just couldn’t stand to see her focus on anything that wasn’t him.  He’d been glaring at the roses in her office for days.  Well, she’d sure as hell not spent $250 on new lingerie from Agent Provacateur to have it spend the night under her clothes at the LAPD. 

          Bruce’s mouth traveled across her cheekbone and met her lips. He pushed her up against the door and she opened her mouth to his kiss. 

 _I am tired of being the responsible one,_ she thought, and drew back, breaking the kiss.

          “You win. I’ll send Harleen.  With one caveat.”

          He smiled triumphantly, “Name it.”

          “If I have to keep something out of the press, you’re covering whatever it costs me.”

          “Done. Now, text her and tell her to handle it before I take your goddamn phone away and lock it in my safe,” he growled.

* * *

          Harleen was camped out on the couch with the cats, spending what she thought of as a perfect Saturday night – wine and Netflix – when her phone buzzed.  _Probably Ivy trying to convince me to join her at the club,_ she thought, but she saw Selina’s name flash across the screen as she picked it up. 

**Call Nick 213-561-2471.  J’s lawyer.  Will pick you up and explain.  I am not available but you know how to handle.**

_I do???_

_SHIT._

          Harleen bounded off the couch, scaring the cats, and dashed into the bathroom in a panic, grabbing for her hairbrush with one hand as she clicked on the number with her other.   The attorney answered almost before the phone rang.

          “Nick DeAngelis.”

          “Hi, Mr. DeAngelis, I’m Harleen Quinzel, I’m working with Selina and she told me to call you, that there was some kind of emergency and she’s not available?”

          “Yes.  Your boss is down at the police station again. They haven’t arrested him but we need to get there quickly and make sure that doesn’t happen.  What’s your address?”

          Harleen gave it to him and he told her he’d be there in ten minutes.  She dressed hurriedly.  _Not available_?   _Since when is Selina ever off work?_ As far as she’d seen in the past month, every time J so much as sent a text, Selina snapped into action immediately, no matter the time or place. 

 _She picked a hell of a time to get a life,_ Harleen thought, putting her hair up in a messy bun and throwing on some mascara and lip gloss. That would have to do.  _You get what you get when you make me go somewhere on ten minutes notice._

          A few minutes later, Nick pulled up in his black BMW.  She ran down the stairs to meet him and slid into the car, and he began filling her in immediately as he pulled away. 

          “Crashed some private party he wasn’t invited to at Monster T’s house and started shooting people with a squirt gun.  He’s lucky he didn’t get shot with a real one.”

Harleen sighed.  “Yeah, he’s not a fan. He thinks the lyrics on that new song of T’s are directed at him.  I’m guessing he’s not exactly sober at the moment?”

          “Practically a science experiment, I’m sure.  I’ll deal with the police and if we’re lucky and this hasn’t been noticed, you may not have anything to do.”

          “Let’s hope.  I’m no Selina.”

          He smiled at her.  “You will be. She speaks highly of you.”

 _She does?_ Harleen was surprised.  She often felt like she was in over her head at work and like she’d never learn it all, much less be able to keep her cool in any situation the way Selina did.  She felt like a nuclear war could start and Selina would be simultaneously calling the insurance company, rounding up everybody into the basement and dictating a press release about their response to the situation into her phone. 

          They arrived at the station and Harleen’s heart sank. She recognized at least five paps standing around outside waiting for the shot. Hopefully they hadn’t got any of him going in…

          “Slow news night,” Nick observed.  “We’ll figure it out.  He’s done a lot worse.” 

 _Somehow that doesn’t reassure me,_ Harleen thought, but she followed him inside.  They were relieved to find that they had the Joker in a private interrogation room instead of out in public where someone could get a picture. 

          “You go talk to him and see if he’s in any shape to take out in public,” Nick directed. “I’ll talk to the sergeant.”

          Harleen nodded and one of the officers let her into the room.  The Joker immediately perked up when he saw her, but looked beyond her and was surprised to see she was alone.  Harleen noticed he was still cuffed and wondered if he’d added resisting arrest to the evening’s festivities. 

          “Where’s Kitty?”  He craned his neck around her, but Selina failed to materialize.

          “She couldn’t come.  Um, why are your hands purple?” 

          The Joker cackled at her.  “Food dye. I painted Monster T’s party and everybody in it!  Including him.  I hope someone got pictures, it was some of my best artwork.”

          She could smell the alcohol and smoke when he leaned toward her and grimaced. 

          “Let’s hope not.  You look like a drunk version of Barney the Dinosaur.”

          He cocked his head sideways at her.  “Selina?  Sweetheart, you’ve shrunk and I’m not sure the blonde is working for you.” 

          Harleen snickered and immediately regretted it.  _It’s your job to straighten him out. Not laugh at his drunken jokes and encourage him_ , she chided herself.  

          The door swung open and Nick joined them.  The Joker welcomed him as enthusiastically as if he was hosting a party at his home, not handcuffed in a police interrogation room.

          “ _Just_ the man I wanted to see.  They took my gun away.  They’re interfering with my Second Amendment rights.”

          Nick seated himself next to her.  “The Second Amendment does not apply to squirt guns.  Don’t think I’m not grateful that was your choice, but what you did was still considered assault and battery.”

          “Pussies,” J remarked with a snort.  “You got it dropped?”

          “I got it dropped. It _will_ cost you, as usual.”

          Harleen breathed a sigh of relief at that news, but the five – or more – paps outside still posed a problem. 

          “Whatever, it was worth it. You should have _seen_ his face. He thought I really had a gun.  Street cred – gone.  In front of all his friends, his wife _and_ his girlfriend.”  Harleen found herself laughing along with him again at the image of the rapper looking foolish and scared.  She knew she really needed to get control of that…but damn it, J was good at making her smile. 

          “We still have to get you out the door, and we’re not alone,” Harleen reminded him.  “There are at least five paps out there that I know, and who knows how many more.  I have an idea, though.”

          For once, the Joker shut up and listened to her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harleen figures out a solution to her dilemma, but the evening has one more curve ball to throw at her. Meanwhile, you _greedy, greedy, demanding_ Batcat fans...all I have to say is, I hope you enjoy!

Love makes everything complicated.

                             ~ Elie Wiesel

 

 

          They emerged from the station, Nick walking ahead of them and doing his best to shield them from the cameras and their pushy operators, who seemed to be everywhere.  The questions came flying in from all sides.

_Over here!_

_Joker!  Over here!_

_Were you arrested?_

_What are the charges?_

                Harleen turned on one of them as she went by, a furious look on her tear-streaked face.  “He saved me from my crazy ex who was following me tonight if you really want to know.  Put that on your stupid web site!”  With that, she dissolved into sobs again and the Joker put a protective arm around her and pulled her to him. 

                “Give her some space, Ken,” he said to the closest pap.  “Shhh, it’s over, you’re safe,” he murmured into her ear, just loud enough that Ken could overhear.  Now the screams were all about her.  _Who was she?  What happened?  How did she know the Joker?_  Nick stepped up the pace, hustling them both into the back of the BMW, before he slid into the driver’s seat himself and started the car.

                Behind the tinted windows, the Joker and Harleen broke into hysterical laughter. 

                “That…was fucking brilliant!” he exclaimed.

                “Thank you very much!” Harleen answered, equally gleeful at how well her plan had worked. “And they’ll print the story before the court opens on Monday, in case anybody gets the bright idea to research it and see if it’s true. They don’t put DVRO’s online so it’s work to find them and if they do, I'll just say I didn't file because I was afraid of retaliation.”

                Nick looked at her in the mirror.  “They won’t even bother checking it.  It’s a good story for them – they don’t care if it’s true or not.  The Internet is going to make a hero of him by morning.  Nice timing, right before the tour. That is, if he doesn’t go out and do something to ruin it tomorrow…”

                “I’m locking you in the house ‘til we leave,” Harleen said, mock glaring at her boss, who raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated look of equally fake innocence and grinned at her.

                “You can tie me to the bed as long as you _personally_ supervise me.”

She blushed and then felt doubly foolish for blushing.  She heard him start to chuckle at her discomfiture.  He couldn’t say anything because they weren’t alone but he crooked his index finger at her, motioning her closer. 

                _Oh no.  Crush or no, I don’t need to wind up unemployed._

                Harleen stayed right where she was and busied herself with her phone for the rest of the trip back to Malibu.  The Joker did the same, occasionally grumbling about Selina’s lack of response to his texts, but as they drove along, he got tired and dozed off. Harleen noticed and was relieved. She was crashing from the adrenaline, wiped out and certainly not up to verbally sparring with him.   

* * *

                Selina stood in the dark conference room, sipping her champagne and admiring the city lights while Bruce made a couple of phone calls.  He was honest to a fault; it was one of the things that had gotten her attention.  Sure, he was a good enough businessman to know when to withhold information, but the only time she ever heard him flat out lie was when he was on the phone with Talia. 

                “I know you really wanted me there, but there’s too much money at stake for me to miss this meeting. He flies out in the morning and I won’t have another opportunity,” he was telling her. 

                Selina slipped up behind him and pressed herself into his back, slipping her hand around him and under his jacket, tracing his stomach muscles through the thin shirt.  She felt him quiver but his voice never changed, and he didn’t try to pull away. 

                _This call has gone on long enough,_ she decided.  She circled around to face him, a ghost of a smile on her lips. 

                “Let’s discuss that tomorrow.”  He paused and Selina could hear Talia sounding annoyed on the other end.  Selina rolled her eyes dramatically, and at that, he almost broke his composure and laughed. She put a finger up to her lips, cautioning him to stay silent, and, never breaking eye contact with him, dropped to her knees.

                The look he gave her could have set the room on fire.  He was the most controlled person she’d ever met, in stark contrast to most of the men she came into contact with in her job, and there was nothing that could have been more gratifying than watching it unravel.  _Making_ it unravel. 

                “No.  No, I don’t think Dr. Adamson is right about that. Look, we’ll discuss this tomorrow.” 

                Selina had his belt unbuckled now. 

                “ _You’ve_ been unavailable for months. I can’t drop everything when you finally show up, remember you have a child and want to discuss him.”

                She unhooked the dress pants and leaned over, taking the zipper in her teeth and slowly easing it down, watching his face as she did so.  His eyes were half shut and she knew he wasn’t really listening to the call anymore.   He was hard as a rock beneath his pants and she was impressed with how well he was maintaining his composure on the phone.

                _I love a challenge,_ she thought, as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of his boxers and drew them down, still looking up at him and smiling.  She leaned over, not quite touching his cock with her mouth but she knew he could feel her breathing on it. 

                “None of this is urgent,” he said into the phone, and Selina raised her elegant eyebrows at him. 

                _Looks pretty urgent to me._

                He shut his eyes at the first lick. 

                “I’m sitting down to dinner,” he managed.  “We will discuss this in the morning.”  He clicked the phone off and dropped it on the table.

                “Dinner’s over. Time for dessert,” Selina purred, and sucked as much of him as she could fit into her mouth.  He made a sound low in his throat and dug both hands through her hair as she swirled her tongue around the head.  She pulled back and traced down the vein that ran along the length, then tilted her head and took his balls into her mouth.

                “Fuck, Selina,” he groaned and she laughed softly and continued.

                _Anything worth doing is worth doing well,_ she thought.  She licked her palm and started jacking him off with her hand while her mouth stayed busy below it.  He was leaking precum and she rotated her palm over the tip, spreading it around and then slid her mouth back up to suck it off of him.

                He groaned and pulled her back to her feet in one fluid motion, spinning her around.

                “Bend over. Now.”  His growl sent shivers down her spine.  He was a different person now; all trace of his polite and controlled public self gone, and _she had done it._ She bent over the table obediently, and he flipped up her dress.  Lace topped thigh high stockings and garters decorated her pale skin but her panties were conspicuously absent and she was so wet that it was glistening in the moonlight that came in the windows.   Her pussy quivered at the sound of his heavy breathing behind her.

                Selina looked over her shoulder.  “I _know_ you have to hurry home, so I wanted to save time,” she said as sweetly as possible.  He stepped closer and she felt his length sliding back and forth between her legs, teasing her and making her shiver. 

                “This-“ he slid completely into her, making her moan “-is the only place I want to be.”  He knew he didn’t have to take his time tonight; she was dripping wet and spasming around his cock already. _It had been much too long_ , he thought, and he let his frustration at the situation come out with every violent thrust, knowing that she loved it as much as he did.  She gripped the edge of the table and pushed back to meet him.  He curled a hand around her and his fingers found the sides of her clit, sliding back and forth. 

                “Oh God, Bruce!” She couldn’t stop herself from crying out as she came, arching her back and throwing her head back. He caught her hair in his hand, pulling her toward him and she felt his lips on her neck as he continued to thrust into her.  She shook and trembled, overcome by sensation.

                “I’m not done with you yet,” he whispered into her ear.  He slowed down and ground himself into her and she gasped, feeling the pressure building again.  He pulled back, slid his hand around her and down the neckline of her dress to play with a nipple, and started to thrust against her g-spot. She would have collapsed on the table if he hadn’t been holding her so tightly. The pleasure was indescribable and she could do nothing but gasp and moan beneath him. 

                “You sure you don’t want your phone back?” he hissed in her ear.  “You might be missing something important.”  He slammed himself back inside of her and she came again almost immediately, so hard that things went black in front of her eyes and she thought she was going to pass out.  He thrust a few more times and she heard him groaning as he finished.

                They stayed there for a minute, catching their breath.  Selina put her arms down on the table and put her head down.

                “Just keep the phone,” she muttered, eliciting a low chuckle from Bruce.  He pulled her back toward him and they collapsed on the floor, his strong arms wrapping around her. 

                “I love you, Selina,” he whispered into her hair.

                It was the first time he had said it, and she cringed even though her heart leapt at his words.  There was no happy ending here, couldn’t be. But she couldn’t lie to him or ruin the moment, either.

                “I love you too,” she responded, but he heard the tinge of sadness in her voice and it broke his heart.   _I have to fix this_ , he thought.

* * *

             

                Nick pulled the car up to the house and Harleen checked her phone, but Selina had still not replied.  She was still nervous that she might have done the wrong thing, but Nick’s reaction was positive so she was hoping that meant Selina would also agree.  She looked over at J, who was still sleeping and reached over to give his shoulder a gentle shake.

                “Wake up.  J.  Wake up.  You’re home.”

                He opened his bleary eyes and looked at her, “Where?”

                “Home.  Your house?”

                “Can you walk?” Nick asked from the front seat.  “I have to get going, it’s four and I’ve got to be in court at 8:30.”

                “I’m fine,” mumbled the Joker, opening up the car door and promptly falling out of it onto his knees.

                Harleen swore under her breath but she jumped out of the car and raced around it to help him up.  He draped himself over her shoulders, swaying on his feet.

                “Nick, just go. You’ve got to get some sleep. I’ll get an Uber home,” she reassured him. 

                “Are you sure?  You going to be okay?”  The older gentleman shot her a distinct look of concern at the thought of leaving her alone with his drunken client. 

                “I’m pretty sure I can drag him up the stairs.  I grew up on a farm in Nebraska.”

                “Yeah you should see her Facebook,” the Joker slurred. “She did!  She can rope cows and every…all kinds of shit.”

                Harleen gave Nick a smile, “Sadly I don’t have my rope with me or a cattle prod – that might come in handy.  Thanks for your help tonight.”  She turned to the Joker.  “Please _try_ to walk, okay?  It’s a long way to your room.”

                ”Yesssssss ma’am,” he answered and made a token effort at supporting his own weight as they crossed the entrance hall and made their way up the marble staircase. 

                _I probably should have just dumped him on the couch,_ Harleen thought.  But she hadn’t been sure if Selina would expect her to make sure he got safely back to his room so that the household help wouldn’t find him when they came in at seven, and she didn’t want to do the wrong thing. 

                Finally, they made it up the stairs and to his room.  With quite a bit of effort, she managed to get him maneuvered over to his bed and dumped him on it, reaching down for his feet and hoisting his legs up on the bed to join the rest of him.  He was as limp as a rag doll and she thought he had passed out again until she felt his hand slide between her legs as she was trying to take off his shoes.

                Harleen had always had quick instincts and she spun around and decked him in the face before she even consciously thought about it.  He put his hand up to his face in surprise and it came away covered with blood. 

                “I don’t know what you think you get for $12 an hour, but that’s definitely not included!” He was startled and started laughing.  He hadn’t thought she had it in her.  She was _really_ pissed that he was laughing, too.  “Sober up!” she ordered and, giving him a disgusted look, she left, slamming the door on her way out.

                By now, he was perfectly sober and the punch had woken him up completely.  He stared after her, still too amused to be angry.  That Harley…she was something. 

                _Plan A hit a snag, well, it hit me, but I always have a Plan B,_ he thought, and started typing up an email on his phone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harleen's about to find out about the one consequence of her actions she never considered. :)

“Security is mostly a superstition. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.” 

                                                                      ~ Helen Keller

 

                Harleen reminded herself not to slam the door of her apartment, although she was still in a door-slamming mood.  Ivy’s car was in her parking spot and there was no need to wake up her roommate just because she was pissed off.  She quietly slipped into their apartment and used her phone to light the way to her bedroom door.

                Once inside, she was too tired to do anything more than wipe off her makeup with a washcloth, take off her jeans and crawl into bed, where she realized she had passed that point of being overtired where despite being utterly exhausted, you can’t fall asleep.  Or maybe she just had too many thoughts spinning around in her head.

                _Punching your boss is not generally recommended,_ she thought. She wondered if she’d still have a job in the morning.  How could the night go so wrong? She’d been a hero two hours ago and now she might not even have a job.  Ugh.  But it wasn’t like it was her fault.  What the hell.  What the fuck.  Why had he done that?  It wasn’t like he didn’t have better options, he already had so many models hanging around that the pool area looked like a casting call for Donald Trump’s fourth wife. 

                _Drunk men aren’t particular,_ she reminded herself. But was he even still drunk when he did that or was the whole thing an act?  She wouldn’t put much past him. Harley wasn’t sure she’d seen the real Joker yet.  He seemed to be putting on one act or another most of the time, whether it was the role of stupid, addicted rock star, or overgrown out-of-control child (he seemed to trot that one out regularly for Selina, knowing it annoyed her). 

                The worst part was, as angry as she was that he felt entitled to do what he did, part of her kept replaying it and wondering what it would have been like if she had just gone along with it.  It wasn’t like she hadn’t already imagined what it would feel like to have his hands on her.  _Damn it._   It was impossible not to be attracted to the man.

                Harleen couldn’t decide if she was more upset that she might lose her job, or that he might try something like that again, or that he might _not_ try it again.  She decided to pull the quilt up over her head and squeeze her eyes tightly shut until she fell asleep. 

                _I’m going into my blanket fort and coming out when I’m 35 and have better judgment,_ she decided.

 

* * *

 

                The next morning, Harleen walked down the hall to Selina’s office with the sickest possible feeling in her stomach.  She'd hardly slept and couldn’t decide if the fact that she hadn’t heard from her yet was good news or bad news.  _They always fire you in person_ , she thought.  But when she knocked on the door, Selina sounded…cheerful?  She slowly opened the door and peered inside.  Selina was sitting at her desk, dressed more casually than usual in a black leggings and a gray vintage t-shirt, her hair in a ponytail.  It made her look younger and less intimidating.

                “Come on in.  And relax. You’re not in trouble.”

                Harleen breathed an audible sigh of relief as she seated herself across from Selina, who slid a coffee across the desk at her.   

                “Here you go.  Do you know what happened to me at my first job in this business?”  Selina was smiling.

                “ _Please_ tell me!”

                “I had to meet everybody at the venue to unload and it was in the middle of nowhere. The manager didn’t feel like getting out of bed when we rolled in at midnight, so he’d sent me a key Fed Ex to get in.  We drove all the way to some backwater town in Tennessee, and do you know where my key was?”

                “Not with you?” Harleenguessed.

                “On my desk in Los Angeles.  Now I had a bus full of people, and a semi truck full of stuff, and we _had_ to unload that night because the place was open for breakfast in seven hours and they wouldn’t stand for us interfering with the restaurant business.  The band I was with wasn’t a big enough deal to call the shots.” 

                Selina smiled, reminiscing about those days. She had barely been 19 at the time but had discovered the correct take-charge attitude fooled a lot of people.  The bands she worked for were poor and so was she; the dollar value menu was her friend and she learned to scour yard sales for clothes that made her look like she was deliberately dressing vintage chic rather than too broke to afford nice things.  All had gone flawlessly until that very moment, standing in a parking lot in Tennessee at midnight and she had to make a choice.

                “Oh my God, what did you do?  I would have been freaking out!”

                “I was.  I decided to break in.  I gambled that they wouldn’t have a security system since it was such a small town, but I was waiting for an alarm to go off at any time.  I climbed up their fence, pried off the window pane above the door and slid inside. Fell about ten feet, twisted my ankle and scraped up my arm but we got inside and set up and the venue was none the wiser.”

                Harleen was grinning.  “That’s amazing!”

                “You’ve heard J call me Kitty?  It’s not just because I like cats.  The Joker heard about that story before he met me, and told me I’d missed my calling as a cat burglar.  He said it was the main reason he hired me even though I was too young – because he said it showed I could problem-solve in a crisis instead of panic.  Just like you did last night.”

                “Was that all right?  I mean, the story at the police station part.”

                Selina nodded. “It was a good choice in a tough situation.  It wouldn’t have worked if they’d shot him coming in, but we were all lucky.  They just knew he was in there, not _why_ he was in there.”

                “Are we worried that someone from the party got pictures or video?”  Harleen was trying to think about all the possibilities and show that she was aware of them, now that she realized she still had a job.

                “If they did, Monster T wouldn’t have let it out of his house.  J says he was, and I quote, “pleading for his life like a little bitch.’” 

                “I shouldn’t laugh,” Harleen said, between giggles, “but-“

                “Even I laughed.  _After_ I lectured him, of course, and told him how lucky he was that he had you around last night.”

                Harleen was afraid to ask but felt like she’d better.  “Is he…okay?”

                “If you mean, is he sober, I think so.  If you mean, how does his face look, it looks like he got a richly-deserved punch in the nose.”  Selina shrugged.  “Mess with the bull, get the horns.  Are _you_ okay?  I can guess what he did.”

                “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.  He was just wasted and stupid, it wasn’t like I had to fight him off,” Harley told her. 

                “I think your response was perfect, and I don’t think he’ll try anything again.  He’s just so used to women dropping their panties when he looks at them that he forgets it’s not a universal response.”  Selina stood up and started to gather up and organize the files on her desk. “Once we’re out on the road, he’ll have plenty of willing participants to choose from and he’ll forget you exist unless he’s out of vodka or something isn’t working.”  Harleen knew that Selina meant for her words to be reassuring but was aware that, on some level, they stung.  She didn’t _want_ him to forget she existed. _Ugh, stupid juvenile crush…_

“Can I ask one more question?”  Harleen felt emboldened by how things were going and curiosity was absolutely killing her.

                “You can always ask questions,” Selina responded, carrying a stack of files over to the empty banker’s boxes on her couch.

                “Why was J grumbling about you and Bruce Wayne last night?”

                Selina smiled.  “Like I said, you can always ask.  Now check your e-mail, I sent you a long list of calls to make and errands to run today.  We’re leaving early tomorrow morning. I’m shooting for five because I’d really like to miss rush hour, and I know the drivers feel the same way.”

                “Got it.” 

                _That’s interesting,_ Harleen thought.  _Selina hooking up with Bruce Wayne?_ They seemed so different, but opposites had been known to attract. _Yeah, you’re sane and J is insane which proves that theory_.  She walked out of the office, closing the door behind her and turned around to go, already reading her to do list on her phone, and then someone was in her way.  Startled, she looked up.

                “Morning, Harley!”  Harleen let out a gasp despite herself.

                _How did he do that, I didn’t even hear him!_

                J was suddenly there, not six inches in front of her.  Selina’s door was at her back and she was trapped unless she dodged left or right to get out, which she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of doing.  He looked better than anybody should look who had been as wasted as he had been not twelve hours earlier.  He didn't even look _tired._

 _Keep it professional, and you’ll be fine,_ she told herself.

                “Good to see you walking on your own again.  Are you ready to leave in the morning?” 

                “ _That's_ what you want to ask me?"  His nose _was_ pretty red and puffy.  She must have hit him harder than she thought. 

                “Actually,” she waved her phone, “It’s on my list.  Make sure you’re actually packed and everything that’s going is downstairs.”

                “You know, I thought about it and I tried _really_ hard and…I can’t _remember_ the last time anyone said no to me.  And no one’s _ever_ hit me before.”  He didn't look angry, she noted - just sort of bewildered.  She was _sure_ he was putting on an act.  

                Harleen raised her eyebrows, determined to keep the conversation light.  “New experiences build character.”

                He gave her his most innocent look.  “Exactly why I was trying to give you some.”

                Harley laughed, regretting it but unable to stop herself.  “Can I go now? I have a lot to do.”

                J stepped back, obligingly.  “Been online this morning?  You’re my new girlfriend…and they’re _very_ interested in you.”

                ” _What?”_

Now he was the one who was laughing. “And now we’re going off on tour together. This is _so_ romantic!”  

                  _Oh God,_ she thought.  _What have I gotten myself into?_


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they're off...
> 
> Harleen gets a surprising phone call. Selina's going to get one next chapter. Is that sound I hear all Hell breaking loose? Why yes, I think it is...

“What you're missing is that the path itself changes you.”

                                            ~ Julien Smith

 

                “Ivy, quit laughing.  I really don’t know what to do.” 

                They were camped out on opposite ends of the couch in their pajamas eating Chinese food and drinking wine.  Harleen knew she probably shouldn’t be drinking given the time she had to be up in the morning, but after the events of the weekend, she needed to de-stress.  Ivy was scrolling through her phone and reading parts of gossip blog stories out loud.

                “I knew there was something going on there, even though she tried to play innocent,” Ivy read.  “That’s a quote from Bernadine Ameza.”

                Harleen snorted.  “A maid we had to fire the first week I was there!  She saw nothing.”

                “She saw her 15 minutes of fame!  Look, she’s on this one, too,” Ivy tilted her phone so Harleen could see.  “By the way, since when are you named after a motorcycle?  Harley Quinn, really?”

                “That’s what the Joker calls me, it’s like his nickname for me.  He said my real name sounded like a pageant winner from Tennessee and I really can’t argue with that.”  She smiled, remembering their conversation on the balcony.    

                Her roommate gave her a pointed look.  “You _like_ him.”

                “I do not "like" him. I mean, I like him as a person, you know, he's super talented and he's really funny. I like him when he's sober-ish.”

                “Oooohkay so I _imagined_ the part you just told me where he tried to rape you."  

                “Oh please, that’s a little dramatic. He just grabbed me like any drunken guy would do.  I couldn’t walk through a bar in my home town without someone trying that. You think I can’t handle it?”

                “So you _didn’t_ have to punch him to get him off of you?”  Ivy could be annoying when it came to men. She was absolutely convinced they were all sexual predators and that women were much better off sticking to their own kind; whereas Harleen just felt they needed to be kept in line. No different than handling any large animal on the farm – sometimes they just needed to be _reminded_ to be respectful.

                “I probably didn’t _have_ to, it was just my first instinct.”

                “And now you’re going to be stuck on a bus with him for weeks?” Ivy questioned as she got up and headed to the kitchen for more food.  “Hope you’ve been working out!” 

                “Him and a lot of other people. I hardly think we’re going to be alone.”  Ivy came back into the room and settled herself on the couch as she spoke.   “I’m not worried about him,” Harleen clarified.  “I’m worried about all of these stories about me.  Look, this one got me confused with my sister and is saying I’m a drug addict!”   She waved her phone at Ivy. 

                “You met the lawyer, call him and ask him to get it taken down,” Ivy called from the kitchen. 

                “Oh.  Yeah, I should.  Although the story’s already been shared…321 times on Facebook.”  Harleen groaned.  “I’m afraid to look at my messages.  I have 46.”

                “Welcome to show business,” Ivy laughed.  “When you get tired of it, my friend Vanessa thinks you’re hot.  I’d be happy to give you her num-“  She got cut off and started laughing.  Harleen had chucked a pillow at her head. 

                “I’m going to miss you, despite your inappropriate behavior.”

                Ivy snorted. “You can’t hang out with me and the Joker and pretend you don’t like inappropriate behavior.  Your true self is coming out, girl!”

                Harleen laughed but, inside, she felt a nagging worry. She had always been the responsible one – really, she’d had no choice - but now she felt this other, long-buried side emerging – a much more reckless girl who whispered to her that you only live once and that playing it safe got you nowhere.  It was the voice of a girl who simply didn’t care if people talked about her.  _Let them talk. They're just jealous.  
_

_That_ girl was more than ready to call J’s bluff, no matter what the consequences might be.

                _Is this the real me?_

                She didn't know the answer, but she guessed she was going to find out.

* * *

                The Joker's huge house was so quiet that it seemed empty.  Everybody who was staying over was asleep except for Selina, who was stalking around her office, thinking.

                She was fairly sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Every list was checked off, every detail in place.  A quick glance at her phone confirmed that it was after 1:00 a.m.  There was no reason she couldn’t get a few hours of sleep before they needed to leave.  She made sure the alarm was set on her phone, then kicked off her shoes and settled herself on the couch, pulling the chenille throw up to her chin. 

                _What a weekend,_ she thought. She certainly didn’t regret her decision to take Saturday night off and stay with Bruce, but the fact that she had made the decision concerned her.  Selina had always been very clear about what she was doing with Bruce.  They both lived lives they needed an escape from.  They both had excellent reasons to be discreet.  And they had always been on the same page; no one was ever going to cross the line and talk about _feelings_ or anything that would change the nature of the relationship.  He’d known going in that she wasn’t the romantic type, and that he had nothing to worry about.  She’d secretly _liked_ that she didn’t have to be concerned he’d try to move in or become a bigger part of her life.  He wasn’t going to complicate things.  She wouldn’t have to deal with some nagging boyfriend complaining about her work hours, as she’d seen with so many women in her line of work.

                It wasn’t that she was jealous of Talia. There was nothing to be jealous about.  Selina knew Bruce was barely cordial with his wife; she knew he regarded her with thinly-veiled disgust and he had long since given up on the marriage.  It was simply a waiting game for him; when Damien went off to college, Bruce would go his own way as well. 

                No, it wasn’t Talia that was getting to her.  It was simply that she had come to realize how much she would like Bruce’s day to day presence in her life. Coming home to an empty and quiet house used to feel relaxing but these days it felt lonely.  She chafed at the restrictions of their relationship; knowing there were times she couldn’t call or see him.  And it made her sad to see Bruce so often doing things alone with his son, half of a family, although she supposed it irritated her more when Talia was around to join them.

                Selina had met Damien once.  After Bruce purchased Astronomy, his son had begged for an opportunity to meet the Joker and of course, Bruce couldn’t deny him anything.  Selina had offered to let someone else handle things; she certainly would have understood if Bruce wasn’t comfortable having her meet his child.  But he scoffed at the suggestion and brought Damien over to the house. J liked kids and not only made sure the whole band was there to meet the young man, but ended up giving him a guitar lesson. 

                Bruce told her later, with great amusement, that his son told him Selina was pretty cool - for a girl.  It was a perfect day and, now that she thought about it, probably the day things began to change.  The day she started to really want Talia to just be _gone._

                And the thing was, she _could_ make it happen.  As only a few people knew – Bruce and J among them – Selina was actually a Falcone, the heiress to the east coast mob boss.  She had changed her name and done an excellent job of hiding her history, but she had been known to quietly call in favors from her father’s side of the family when necessary. 

                She certainly didn’t want to follow in the family footsteps and be a career criminal _but_ there were times having that kind of power at her disposal was decidedly appealing.  She’d used it more than once to get back photographs and video when a pap was stubborn and stupid enough to refuse to sell.  Word got around. They didn't refuse anymore.

                But Bruce was very much a believer in law and order; he understood that she sometimes had someone threatened and intimidated, as she was having done with Talia’s ex-lover this very evening, but there was a big difference between frightening someone and killing them.  He would be horrified if he thought she was capable of murder, whereas Selina knew that having Talia taken out wouldn’t cause her a moment of guilt.  She felt like she could do it herself and host a party to celebrate.  The woman was everything she despised in other women; fake, cruel and manipulative.  She knew Bruce wasn't happy with her and she enjoyed having the power to force him to stay with her. The woman literally got off on other peoples' misery, especially those closest to her.  She loved her son when a camera was around but criticized him in private and was convinced he was autistic, a fact she would bring up even if he was around and listening. It was like she saw him as a smaller version of her husband, and one she had more power to hurt.

                _Sick, evil bitch_ , Selina thought.

                She needed to stop thinking about it.  They’d be on the road in a few hours and she was going to be far too busy to worry about Bruce.  She’d be happy, as she always was when she was too busy with work to think. And maybe Talia would just get hit by a bus or something. 

 _A bus I sent,_ thought Selina as she drifted off to sleep. 

* * *

                It was still dark outside, but they were loaded and on the road, only 15 minutes behind schedule – three buses and the semi truck full of equipment.  Selina was typing away on emails as usual, whereas Harleen was just too excited to go back to sleep.  This was the quiet bus, containing only the Joker, who had stumbled aboard and promptly gone back to sleep in his bedroom at the back of the bus, Selina, herself and the driver.  Harleen learned that the rest of the band preferred to travel in a separate bus as they’d learned the hard way what happened when they disturbed J’s beauty sleep. 

                “It works out great for us,” Selina told her.  “We can each stretch out on a couch instead of using those ridiculous bunks.  Much more comfortable, and we have silence so we can work and make phone calls without someone playing their amped-up edition of “99 Bottles of Beer” in the background and thinking they’re the first one who ever thought of that.”

                Harleen just couldn’t believe it was really happening – she was on a tour bus and heading for their first stop in Arizona!  She'd originally thought her summer was going to be spent doing some deathly boring social media internship at a record label, tweeting lame marketing crap 24/7.  All right, so things had gotten a _little_ crazy, and now she had paps following _her_ , but hey, she was still living her dream and she decided to stop complaining and be grateful.   She re-read everything in her phone about Arizona and surfed the venue’s web site, making sure she knew every detail of the layout.  She took a look at the neighborhood, hunting down a potential source of every supply that might come up missing. 

                “Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Maybe not all on the same stop, but I have had it happen,” Selina had warned.  “The more prepared you are, the better you will deal with it.  Have all the answers before you’re asked for them.  He’ll flip out if something goes wrong so you have to be the calm one, whether it’s a missing cable, dead amp or a bomb threat.”

                Harleen had taken the advice seriously. She envied Selina’s ability to stay calm under pressure, but knew that she was equally capable of it – she just needed more experience. Growing up with a sister who was equally likely to attempt suicide, get arrested or light her own hair on fire on a typical Friday night gave you mad crisis management skills.  However, Lauren had no control over the things she did, whereas Harleen was quickly learning that the Joker’s craziness was deliberate.  She was still trying to figure out what was real; his entire personality seemed to be so much smoke and mirrors.  And then there was the problem that she couldn’t stop looking at him, along with the problem that the world now thought they were dating…

                Her phone vibrating interrupted her thoughts.  Why was her mom calling at 6 A.M.?   A cold chill ran down her spine.  _Lauren's dead_. 

                “Mom?  Is everything all right?”  She remembered to keep her voice down, recalling what she'd been told about disturbing the Joker.

                “Yes!  We got some wonderful news and I wanted to share it with you right away.”  Her mom sounded excited and hopeful, and Harleen couldn’t remember the last time Mom had been any of those things. 

                “What’s up?”  The sun was starting to come up and she watched the ocean speeding by on her right as they made their way down the coast to the highway.   

                “Well, you’re going to be seeing a lot more of your sister!  We got a call last night that an anonymous donor has paid for her to go to rehab at Promises in Malibu. They’re covering _everything._ Honey, even your dad was crying.  Do you think it’s for a TV show?”

                “No.  If it was for a show, they’d have to tell you up front and make you sign a contract and releases.  You’re kidding.  Are you sure it’s legit and not some scam?”

                “I thought so too so I looked the person I talked to on their web site and called her back to confirm and they already faxed us the paperwork. We booked our flights for this Wednesday.  You won’t be there, right?”

                Harleen sighed.  “We’ve already left. I’m sorry!”

                “Don’t worry, honey, I know how hard you’ve worked for this opportunity. What’s important is that your sister is finally going to get help.  Even _she_ was excited about going. She thinks she might meet a movie star.”

                Harleen snickered, “She’ll probably meet six.  Hey, whatever gets her to go makes me happy.”

                “Me too,” her Mom said enthusiastically.  “Now, about you.  What is going on?  You’re not really dating your boss, are you?”  Her mom sounded understandably concerned.

                “No!  Absolutely not. It’s just kind of a publicity thing that people got the wrong idea about.”

                “Oh, I didn’t think so.  Doesn't he have a lot of problems?”

                “I wouldn't even know where to start.  But don’t say anything. Just, uh, say you can’t talk about it.”

                “I know nothing.  Okay honey, I’ll call soon.  I love you!”

                “Love you too, Mom.”

                She ended the call, her mind racing.  Who would pay for that?  It was at _least_ $50,000, likely more, and that was just to start.  She couldn’t think of any family members who had that kind of disposable income.  Maybe some crazy rich successfully sober person who just went around finding addicts all over the U.S. and saving them? Or... _oh no_.  

                “Selina.  Someone just paid for my sister to go to rehab.  At Promises.  We don’t know who.  J wouldn’t do that, would he?”

                Selina didn't even look up from her tablet. “What did I tell you the first rule was?”

                “The answer to 'would he do something like that' is always yes,” she recited. 

                “Very good.  If you’re going to turn him into a do-gooder at his advanced age, I’ll file for a nonprofit foundation. He could use the tax break,” Selina mused, finally looking at her.   “You know, I wasn’t thrilled about this yesterday, but now I think I like the idea of the public thinking you two are together. It’ll actually make our job easier.”

                Harleen looked at her like she was crazy.  “How do you figure that?”

                “If he’s pretending to be with you, we can run off the groupies.  They’re half the headache of this job.  We’ve had them pass out from alcohol poisoning, overdose, turn out to be 17 with fake ID, had a husband show up pounding on the door with a gun, and last year one stabbed him.”

                “ _What_?”

                Selina nodded.  “She had a switchblade and didn’t appreciate being asked to leave when he was done with her.  Didn’t look the type, either.  College girl in Iowa, cute little thing. God only knows what she was on, but that was ugly.”

                “That’s _crazy._   I never heard about that!”

                “Damn right you didn't.  I had him stitched up here on the bus and he played the next night.  I gave him zero sympathy, of course, but I was so relieved it wasn’t worse.  _Never_ underestimate how crazy fans can be. Most are just excited but there’s that one percent you can’t forget exists that’s flat out insane.” 

Just then the door behind them slid open and the Joker sauntered in, barely awake and barely dressed, wearing only a pair of gray shorts that had once been sweat pants, and a pair of mismatched socks.  His green hair was sticking up in every direction and he looked confused about his whereabouts. 

                “Coffee is in the kitchen,” Selina told him without looking up from her phone.  Harleen hesitated a moment and then decided to follow him into the kitchen.

                “I need a refill,” she said, grabbing her cup and heading after him.  

                Harleen slid the door closed behind her and the Joker spun around, pretending to be surprised to find her there.  _Such bullshit,_ she thought.  _I know your act by now and you’re not even a little bit hungover._

                “Harley, sweetheart, were you _following_ me?  I’d rather be following you, the view is…so much better,” he mumbled, making a show of fumbling around with the coffee pod as if he couldn’t quite figure it out.

                Irritated, she pulled it out of his hands and put it in the coffeemaker, punching the button. 

                “There,” she said, staring him down.  “Now, tell me everything you’ve done lately that involves me.”

                He grinned, suddenly completely awake, and looked her up and down slowly.  “In _detail?_ Because I was just-”

                She raised her hand.  “ _Stop_.  Let’s just go with ratings G through PG-13, shall we?”

                “Well… I told Adrian from TMZ that you were the best piece of ass I’d ever had. Is that PG-13 or R?  I can't remember.”

                She glared daggers at him.  “I hope your estate is rich enough to give refunds on all of those tickets after I kill you.”

                He shrugged, picking up his coffee.  “Would you have _rather_ I’d told him you were terrible?”  He chuckled as she slammed another pod into the coffeemaker with far more violence than necessary.

                “OK, let’s narrow this down.  Had any _charitable_ urges lately?”   Harleen didn’t want to come right out and name it, certain that he’d lie and take credit if he wasn’t the mystery donor. 

                “I gave way too much money to Ozzie’s wife’s charity at that stupid fundraiser. And then she made us sleep in the guesthouse anyway.  What a bitch,” he observed.

                She grabbed her coffee cup and quickly mixed a couple of sugar packets into it.  “Never mind.  Forget I asked.”  Harleen turned to leave but his hand shot out over her shoulder and held the door closed when she tried to open it.    

                “Yes?”  She made no attempt to hide her irritation, although her heart was pounding because he was so close.

                “I hope your sister likes Malibu,” he whispered in her ear.  Harleen didn’t turn around but she stopped pulling on the door.

                “You know, I’m _not_ going to-“

                “-Stop it,” he hissed, disgusted at what she’d been about to say. “Do you _really_ think I need to play that game?”

                Harleen shivered, her stomach suddenly in knots.

                “I’m tired of you looking at your phone and getting that worried look on your face.  So I fixed it.  Now you can focus on the tour and not worry that your sister is dead somewhere with a needle in her arm.  I do _not_ expect something in return.” He leaned closer and she could feel his lips against the hair that fell over her ears.  “If my memory serves me, the girls in Phoenix are _very_ friendly.  So I’ll be out of your hair soon.”  He ran a finger through her hair, pushing it back behind her ear and she bit her lip, realizing she was breathing faster and there was no way he hadn’t noticed.  _Damn it._   She turned her head slightly. Their faces were only inches apart.

                “ _You_ better behave yourself in Phoenix. I bet Adrian would love the story of how you’re cheating already,” she told him, smirking.   

                He stepped back suddenly.  “You wouldn’t.”

                She tilted her head, smiled at him, and then she and her coffee were gone and he was left staring at the door. 

                _She got sassy fast,_ he thought.  Nobody ever talked back to him anymore, and it was boring as fuck.  But this girl...every time she talked back to him, it just made him think of more ways to stop her from talking, or turn her words into incoherent moans.  He _knew_ Harley wanted him, you couldn’t miss it.  Her body didn't lie as well as she did. It was only a matter of time, and one thing about the road - he had plenty of time.  


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley wishes her job were [this easy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pk7yqlTMvp8). At least cats don't talk.

The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry

                                              ~ Robert Burns

(Author's note:  Or bats and cats, as the case may be)

 

                Selina hurried down the steps, answering her phone just before it went to voicemail.

                “Hi, can you hear me?” she asked.

                Bruce’s face popped up on her screen, pixelated from the poor signal.  “I can hear you, but where _are_ you? You’re echoing.”

                “Hiding in the basement at the venue.  We have, oh, probably 10 minutes before J completely loses his shit about not being able to find me.”

                She heard the derisive snort on the other end.  “That’s nine minutes longer than I thought he could manage." 

                Selina just smiled.  “Well, he does have Harley now.”

                “I saw the story.  Are they really a thing?”  _Even Bruce is curious,_ Selina thought.  _You know you’ve got some hot gossip going on when Bruce Wayne notices._

                “Not as far as I know, but you never know _exactly_ what two people are up to…” she trailed off suggestively.

                “That’s true, Miss Kyle.  Look at you, for example.  All business, as far as the world sees.”  He smiled. 

                “That’s all they’re allowed to see,” she purred.  “ _You_ …have special privileges.”

                Her phone made a noise and a text popped up on the screen.

                                                **WHERE R U?**

                She must have looked annoyed, because Bruce picked up on it immediately. 

                “Couldn’t even make it a minute, huh?”

He knew the answer, and didn’t wait for her to respond.  “Why don’t you come work at Astronomy?  No more traveling. No more overgrown man-child texting you every thirty seconds.  And you’d be here tonight, where you belong.  In my bed.”

                It wasn’t the first time he had asked her.  Half of her was always tempted.  She’d spent a lot of years living in a state of constant insanity, with a job where multiple concurrent crises were the norm.  Selina knew she would be lying if she said part of her didn’t want to take a normal job, a job that ended at 6 PM, with a boss who didn’t text her at 2 AM for reasons that could range all the way between being arrested, being upset that some radio station wasn’t playing his latest song enough or having hysterics that no one delivered Thai food in Malibu at that hour. 

                However, Selina knew she didn’t want to be Bruce’s employee.  That was a shift in the dynamics of the relationship that she was completely uncomfortable with.  And it wasn’t just that.  Part of her secretly feared that part of the appeal for Bruce was there was this unspoken competition between himself and J.  It was impossible to miss how big of a charge Bruce got out of it when she’d turned off her phone and stayed with him last weekend.  Men were _so_ competitive, and there was something about celebrity – even a guy as rich and powerful as Bruce Wayne liked the idea of stealing a girl away from a famous rock star. Even though she wasn’t the famous rock star’s girl and all he was stealing was her time and attention. 

                It was complicated.  Deep down, she knew she craved feeling needed to the extent that the Joker needed her.  It wasn’t romantic in nature, it never had been and never would be, but there was a part of Selina that needed to care for those who needed help. Whether it was the feral cats that she fed as part of her rescue work, or the eternal train wreck that was the Joker, Selina knew she thrived on being relied upon and trusted. 

                Bruce was going to be all right whether or not Selina was around. He had been before her, and she knew he would be after her.  He just didn’t _need_ her that way. 

                She needed him, and being on the other side was an unfamiliar place to be, and not one that she enjoyed.  Being weak and vulnerable was not a good feeling.  It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, but she was too sensible to trust the situation.  These kinds of relationships ended all the time, for reasons beyond either party’s control.  One day, it was very likely that Bruce Wayne would no longer be a part of her life. She couldn’t forget that. 

                “Selina?  Can you hear me?”  Bruce’s voice crackled a little.

                “Sorry, the connection’s awful,” she lied to cover up her pause.  “I heard what you said, and I wish I was there too.  Did Talia leave already?”

                He nodded.  “She’s halfway across the ocean by now.  They’re filming in Romania.  Maybe she’ll get kidnapped by gypsies,” he joked, and they both laughed.

                “Gypsies could probably sell her for a good price!  Perhaps we should suggest it to them?”

                “She’d be easy to catch,” Bruce added.  “All they have to do is use some hot, young guy as bait.  Talia would be all over him.”

                Selina smiled at his face on the screen.  “As long as she keeps her hands off of you, because otherwise I’ll have to kill her.”

                “You’re so hot when you’re possessive.”

**KITTY?  COME LOOK AT MONITORS.  LIGHT IS UGLY NEED U TO FIX.**

_Jesus fucking Christ, he’s worse than a woman about how he looks,_ Selina thought.  She sighed. 

                “I do have to go, he’s upset about the light and Harley won’t know what to do about that.”

                “You better teach her because one of these days, I’m going to talk you into running off to work for me!  Or I’ll just come in and throw you over my shoulder…whether you like it or not,” he growled.   

                “Is that a promise, Mr. Wayne?  Why don’t you think about what you’re going to do with me after you kidnap me…I should be back at the hotel by midnight.  Call me…let’s discuss,” Selina told him, her voice low and sultry. 

                “Wouldn’t miss it, sweetheart,” he told her. 

                She stood in the dark, staring at the phone and smiling like a teenager.  Then it lit up with another text message and she sighed and headed back up the stairs.

                _Back to reality,_ she thought.    

* * *

                _This is amazing,_ Harley thought.  It was one thing to go to concerts, even with _killer_ seats, and yet another to be backstage.  Even though she spent 50% of her time dashing off to fetch things for Selina like a well-trained bird dog, and the other 50% trying to quickly get out of the way of everybody else who was working on the show, it was still mind-blowing.  There were over 18,000 screaming fans out there in the darkness; the event had completely sold out, as it always did, and she was one of the elite few with an all access pass around her neck.  She could go anywhere, and security would simply step aside and let her, even as they blocked others. 

                _Not too bad for a girl from Nebraska,_ she told herself.  She didn’t look like one anymore, either.  After they’d gotten into Phoenix the night before and all the work was done, she’d given herself a mini makeover and now her blonde hair had pink and purple twists throughout.  Tonight she’d worn black skinny jeans with boots that were cute but still easy to run in - she’d never forget _that_ piece of advice, it was the most true thing ever, all she _did_ was run – and a dark red corset top that was a hand me down from Selina. 

Harley didn’t know if it was the top, the hair color, or the rumors, but she was definitely getting a lot more attention than usual.  Every time Selina sent her out to get something from a bus or truck, she caught _someone_ taking her picture.  She privately admitted to herself that it was kind of fun and flattering to be the object of so much interest, even if the reason was fake. 

And – she’d given up about her name. She was just going to be Harley now. J would never call her by her given name, so everybody new that they met knew her as Harley, and she had decided she liked it.  _A new name for my new life_.  She’d even started to think of herself as Harley, and as a completely different person from the Harleen who had grown up on a farm and spent most of her life with her nose in a book.  

Selina appeared at her shoulder.  “OK, go get him.  Tell him he’s as pretty as he’s going to ever get if he’s still with makeup,” she laughed. 

“Will do,” Harley said and headed for the green room.  There was so much security here, you’d think the President was visiting, but she’d seen the screaming fans trying to find a way into the area between the venue and the vehicles, and was glad they were being held back.  She had no doubt they’d run her over to get to the Joker without a second thought. 

Harley got to the room and swung the door open.  The Joker was sitting on the couch, a drink in his hand, but he wasn’t alone.

                Perched on his lap, looking even more adorable than she did on television, was Emma Cavendish.  Harley let out an audible gasp before she could stop herself. 

                _Holy fucking shit that’s Emma Cavendish!_ she thought.  Emma was the star of one of the highest rated historical dramas on television.  It was in its fifth season and Harley had never missed an episode.  But instead of the voluminous gowns she wore on television, tonight Emma was wearing a black minidress decorated with metal studs and sandals that looked like a cage around her delicate feet and her red painted toes.  Real life Emma made her character look plain by comparison.  The girl was positively flawless and Harley was in awe. 

                And then, just as quickly, her mind went to the next thought.  _What the fuck are you doing on his lap, bitch?_

She blinked, not even sure what to say.

                “Here to fetch me?” The Joker asked.  “Emma, darling, we may have to cut this short. They keep expecting me to _work_ for a living.”

                Emma sighed.  “Bastards. Me too.”  She giggled and got up in one fluid motion, extending her hand to Harley.  “Hi, I’m Emma-“

                “-He’s really got to go.”  Harley blurted out. _You’re being a rude bitch,_ she told herself, surprised at how angry she felt. But she would think about it later.  He _did_ have to go and it was her job to get him where he was supposed to be on time. 

                J got up slowly, and gave Harley a look.  “I’ll be out in a minute,” he said, waving his hand at the door.  He obviously wanted her to leave.

                _Shit,_ Harley thought, her stomach in knots.  She obediently turned and left the room to wait for him outside.  As soon as she was gone, Emma started laughing.

                “What was that?  I thought she was your _fake_ girlfriend?”

                “Well, you know…” the Joker grinned.  “Life imitates art.”

                Emma’s beautiful little face lit up, “Noooooo.  You _like_ her.  Did you just use me to make her jealous?”  Her mouth fell open.  “You planned that, you little shit.”  His answering cackle told her that she’d nailed it.  “I don’t want some poor girl hating me for no reason, it’s bad karma.  I’m going to tell her the truth.”

                “Ah, ah, ah,” he waved a finger at her.  “You’re going to tell her Hannah isn’t your _assistant_?  I don’t think so.  Let her seethe.  It’s good for me!”  The Joker smoothed back his hair in the mirror, winked at Emma and took off out the door.

                _Such a manipulative shit,_ Emma thought, shaking her head.  She had met J when they were both struggling to make something of themselves 15 years ago, and while she found him incredibly entertaining, he also personified pretty much every single reason she no longer dated men.  She sure hoped Harley was up for this.  The girl looked way too young and fresh to handle someone like the Joker.  

* * *

                Harley was sure she’d just come down the same hallway a few minutes earlier, and it hadn’t been this long. 

“ _Please_ we have to go.  We have like 45 seconds before Selina kills me,” she pleaded.  The Joker reminded her of a toddler who didn’t want to go to bed.  _Could he move slower?_

                “Oh, _I_ think we should chat first. What was that little episode in there?”  He raised his eyebrows, mocking her. 

                “Nothing!  I’m just upset because we’re late and I’m going to be in trouble.  Please, can we talk about whatever you want to talk about later?”  She was literally dragging him along by a hand while he laughed at her. 

                “I don’t think you like to see other women touching me. Why is that, Harley?  I mean, seeing as how you’re only interested in your _job._ ” 

                _Twenty seconds._ She was starting to panic and they weren’t even to the end of the hallway yet.

                He stopped completely, ignoring her best efforts to tug at him.  “I’m not moving ‘til you answer my question.”

                They stared at each other.  _Holy shit, he means it,_ she realized, horrified.  _He’ll blow his whole entrance if I don’t give him an answer.  He’s crazy enough. And Selina WILL kill me._

                “Fine, I like you, now GO!”

                He took off running but not before she saw the triumphant look on his face. 

                She hurried after him, listening to the music start.  From the thunderous applause, she knew he’d gotten there on time and she breathed a sigh of relief.  Why did every single interaction with him end up with her feeling so out of control?   Harleen was always in control of her life, but she wasn’t too sure about Harley.  The version of her that existed around the Joker was some kind of loose cannon and anything could happen.

                _You already didn’t trust him, but now you don’t trust you._

* * *

                It had been a _great_ show.

                There were days you were on, and days you were off, and days you were in between.  Tonight, he had been _on_ and he knew it, even without the screams from the crowd and their frenzied energy swirling around him, creating a high no drug could ever touch. 

                He knew why.  When the lights flickered low and he could see again, he’d cast a sideways glance offstage and there she was…absolutely beautiful in the dim light and utterly transfixed by him.  She hadn’t taken her eyes off of him the entire show.  Selina stood next to her, buried in her phone as always, but Harley?  Harley was giving him 100% of her attention and it wasn’t the least bit fake.  He could spot fake attention a mile away. 

                No, Harley was staring because she couldn’t stop.  She was an absolute vision…the blonde hair, now decorated with pastel swirls, long and silky and _real_ , not extensions...the ivory curves of her breasts pushed up by the corset, _also real¸_ he thought – he could spot fake ones a mile away. Everything about her was real. She didn’t play games with him.  She acted angry if she was angry, she acted happy if she was happy, she couldn’t hide her jealousy when she was jealous. It was positively weird how authentic she was.  If he’d ever known anybody like that, it had been so long ago that he didn’t remember it.  

                He knew he could have picked virtually any woman out of the crowd tonight, had her brought up and she’d do whatever he told her to.  He could have any of them blowing him in thirty seconds and feeling honored to have the opportunity because he was a _star._

                And that’s all it was.  He wasn’t knocking it; it was certainly _pleasant_ to avoid all the rejection that other men faced, but after a while, the lack of challenge got old.  He knew there were hundreds of women milling around the venue, hoping that someone would come out and pick them out of the crowd to meet him, but he knew there wouldn’t be anyone there any different from all the rest. 

                Sometimes, he dyed his hair back to brown and dressed up like a normal guy and snuck out to dive bars in the Valley to see if he could still pick up women as Jay Brown. Jay had business cards that showed he sold insurance, he had a higher, softer voice, and he drove a Toyota Camry.  He had a boring little 2 bedroom apartment in Sherman Oaks that looked like it desperately needed a woman’s touch.  That, at least, made it a little more interesting.  Jay had to actually have some game, but he was still a good looking guy, and so far he hadn’t been turned down.  He laughed if a girl thought he looked like the Joker, and said he sure wished he had that guy’s money.  

                Tonight, he only wanted Harley. But he knew the timing wasn’t right.  She was still determined to _make good choices_ , which certainly excluded him.  He needed to leave her alone for a while. Let her obsess over their conversation tonight.  Let her drive herself crazy wondering what he was thinking for a while.  He’d had a nice cool shower to wash the sweat and the stage makeup off and he didn’t mind just stretching out on this nice, comfortable bed, enjoying the peace and quiet, watching TV and reading the e-mails Selina sent him with positive reviews already being posted online.  She screened out anything negative, of course.  Who needed to read that crap? 

                Even if he’d _wanted_ to get Harley up here tonight, it would be tough with Selina standing guard. Selina knew him too well, _knew_ the joke of their relationship wasn’t really a joke, and was determined keep her poor, innocent protégé out of his clutches.  The Joker realized that had a lot to do with Selina’s belief that Harley had the potential to actually do Selina’s job and not screw anything up – and he knew Selina had started chafing at the 24/7 nature of her job ever since she’d hooked up with Bruce Wayne.  People were so predictable, for the most part. They always acted in their own self-interest.  Selina might tell herself she was protecting Harley, but she really just didn’t want to lose her as an employee and therefore lose her own newly-acquired freedom.  She wanted to get Harley fully trained and then be free to disappear for a week to some private love nest with her pet billionaire. 

                _Irritating._  

                There was no loyalty anymore in the world.  Like she’d have ever had an opportunity to _meet_ Bruce Wayne, much less bang him, if she was still traipsing around the Midwest with those talentless hacks she’d worked for before him.   And it wasn’t like she needed to seal the deal with Bruce. She was the side piece and that’s all she’d ever be; J knew Bruce would never let Talia take his son away from him.  Selina’s loyalty should still be with him.  _He_ was the most permanent relationship she’d ever have.  She needed to get her head on straight.

                _There's a song in that situation,_ he suddenly thought, lines running through his head on their own.  He sat bolt upright and pulled his tablet over, all thoughts of sleep forgotten.  He pulled out the stylus and started handwriting lyrics in a chicken scratch only he could read, humming as he did so. 

                _I'll sleep when I'm dead_ , the Joker thought.  

* * *

                At that very moment, Selina’s head was anything but straight. It was after one, and Bruce _hadn’t_ called.  He was normally the most punctual man on earth, so she was starting to worry.

                _He probably fell asleep,_ she told herself.  She was starting to feel silly, pacing around her hotel room alone in a lacy little shift she’d worn, anticipating that Bruce would video chat her. 

She could call him, but she didn’t want to seem desperate. She knew she already _felt_ desperate but letting it show could only make things worse.  It wasn’t that Bruce was as bad as J, but he was still a man, and desperation was not a lovable quality.  Selina simply wasn’t going to start texting him and trying to make him respond like a 13 year old who couldn’t handle her feelings. 

                _You need to pull back from this,_ she told herself.  _You’re losing it._

She sat down at the small desk in her hotel room and went back to surfing the Internet, pulling only the most flattering comments about tonight’s concert to send over to J.  He kept answering, which meant he was alone, and that surprised her.  She knew he had a girl in Phoenix that he always got together with when he was in town, but come to think of it, Selina hadn’t seen her tonight. 

                The phone rang and she grabbed for it, nearly dropping it in her haste. 

                “Hello?”              

                “Hi.”  He hadn’t video chatted her, and he sounded serious. 

                “Is everything okay?” she asked.

                “We’re on our way to the airport.  Talia was in a car accident tonight.”

                _On their way to the airport.  To Romania._ No fender-bender.  Selina’s heart sank into her stomach.

                “My God.  What happened?”

                “I don’t know yet.  We’re flying out in an hour. I’ll try to call you from there but no guarantees.”  Bruce sounded both tired and resigned.

                _I wished her dead,_ Selina thought.   _I joked about killing her.  Tonight._

“Don’t worry about me,” she told him.  “Be careful. Have a safe trip.” 

                “We will.” 

                The line went dead.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst, drama, people keeping secrets, adults who are bad at adulting...this chapter has everything! Don't worry, the story is far from over. 

_Nothing is more wretched than the mind of a man conscious of guilt._

_~ Titus_

 

_This makes Thanksgiving with the family look like a walk in the park,_ Harley thought.  They had gathered to eat breakfast in J’s suite before they hit the road, and while the food was fabulous, everybody was in a weird mood – except for the Joker.

                He was in a great mood.  She was exhausted and was sucking down coffee like it was keeping her alive.  It was most certainly keeping her upright.  Harley kept her nose buried in her phone and only responded if he asked her a direct question.  She could feel his amusement from across the low table and it made her livid.  

                _I am a complete idiot,_ she thought, for probably the 700th time in the past 12 hours.  Harley had decided his entire game was to get her to want him, just because he could, and then ignore her.  After the show, he’d walked right past with the guys, throwing an offhanded thank you at herself and Selina, and off they went.  No attempt to talk to her alone. No call, no text.  No knock on her hotel room door. 

                Nothing.  Every little noise in the hallway, she'd tensed up and held her breath.  Now she just felt like a moron as she perched on the edge of the loveseat, trying to choke down an omelet.  Selina hadn’t smiled all morning and was barely talking. Who knew why?  She couldn’t be upset about the show, not after how it had gone.  Harley immediately started thinking she was upset with her but she couldn’t figure out why, unless she knew why J had almost missed the entrance.

                _Or it’ll turn out that Emma is her best friend, and I’m fired_ , Harley thought, feeling sick.  

                The rest of the band had joined them this morning, but the other guys didn’t share the Joker’s good mood.  Ozzie was still reeling from another fight he’d had with his wife before he left town.  Marina told him if he wanted to save his marriage, he needed to stay home and do that, but of course that wasn’t an option. She was just playing a game.  He was equal parts furious at her and afraid that she wouldn’t be there when he got home.  And, he wanted to talk about it which wasn’t making breakfast any more cheerful.

                “You know, she wasn’t anybody when I met her.  She said she was a writer but what has she ever written? Nothing that ever sold.  I gave her everything.  She’s a household name because of _me._ Nobody cared about Marina Martin, but Marina Cobblepot gets an invite to everything that matters.”

                The Joker nodded, clearly enjoying the drama.  “You could do better,” he assured the drummer. 

                Harley and Selina both shot him a look.  Didn’t he know better than to take a side? 

                Selina got up to refill her coffee and sat down on the opposite side of the table next to Ozzie.  “Why don’t you just call her and apologize?  Life is short.  You don’t really want to blow things up with her.”

                _Who replaced Selina with Dr. Phil?_ Harley thought.  Weird for Selina to even comment on someone else’s personal life.

                “Interesting choice of words,” the Joker snickered.  Selina shot him a venomous look and Ozzie and Harley caught each other’s eyes, equally confused.  

                Eddie looked curious as well, but didn’t let it distract him for long from reading the Wall Street Journal.  He was an interesting character, a talented guitarist who nevertheless had earned his MBA and gone to work for a hedge fund in Beverly Hills.  Suit, tie, conservative haircut, tasteful tie, the whole shebang.  And then one day he walked out of his office and never returned.  Never even picked up his things. 

                He’d played every unpaid gig in every insignificant place in the greater L.A. metro area until he met the Joker through a friend and they’d hit it off.  Eddie’s rationality balanced out the Joker and his guarded personality intrigued him.  Selina said she thought he chose Eddie over all the other possible candidates because he wanted to keep him around until he figured him out.

                _Not hard to imagine that,_ Harley thought.  But this morning, even Eddie – always the least emotional in the group – seemed off-kilter.  He kept reading the paper and muttering to himself, unintelligible things Harley couldn’t decipher. 

                “We should get going,” Selina announced, standing up.  “I’d like to get to Dallas at a reasonable time tomorrow.”  She was giving her usual orders, but Harley noted that she seemed like her mind was elsewhere. Either she was very tired, which was certainly possible after yesterday, or maybe she wasn’t feeling well. Selina was not one to admit to either, unlike Harley who was fond of whining at length to Pam about her exhaustion levels.  She got up and obediently followed Selina out of the room. 

                “You’re packed, right?” Selina asked, as they headed down the hallway to their own rooms.

                Harley nodded.  “I’m all set.” 

                “Great.  Take your bags out to the bus and-“ Selina hesitated mid-sentence, as if she’d lost her train of thought.  “-and we’ll come back and…round everybody up.” 

                “Are you okay?”  Harley asked.  “You seem a little out of it.”

                Selina ran a hand through her hair, absentmindedly.  “I’m fine.  But please remind me to call Alicia once I’m on the road and go over my checklist with her.” 

                Harley nodded and went to get her things. She was glad there was no show today.  Everybody was just too weird, but they couldn’t get into much trouble just sitting on a bus…she hoped. She reminded herself to call her mom later and get an update on how things were going with Lauren.

* * *

                It had been a long and mostly silent day as their caravan crawled across New Mexico and then a seemingly endless expanse of Texas.  J hadn’t come out of his room, and Selina had buried herself in work, giving Harley a long list of people to call and other tasks.  It was always amazing how much there was to do.  If you weren’t actively setting up or breaking down at one location, you were checking on facilities and marketing and ticket sales for another date, updating social media appropriately and of course making sure that J himself hadn’t updated it _inappropriately_.  They stayed busy until they lost Internet service as they drove through the middle of absolute nowhere, Texas.  At that point, Selina had suggested they just go to sleep so that they could wake up early and get the rest of their list accomplished before they reached Dallas.   Harley thought that sounded like the best idea ever; she was still wiped out from the previous night and gratefully fell asleep within minutes after closing her eyes. 

                She woke up in the middle of the night thinking she’d left the TV on and fallen asleep on the couch, a common occurrence back in L.A., but a moment later the swaying of the bus reminded her they were on the road. And the voices she heard were not the television – they were the Joker and Selina arguing behind his closed door.  It had gotten loud enough that she could hear everything.

                “He’s going to think that whether you show up there or not.  You’re a Falcone and the wife of the man you’re sleeping with is dead. And it looked like a car crash but, shazam, witnesses said her car blew up _before_ the impact.  There’s not a whole lot of ways that _can_ look, sweetheart!”

                _Holy shit._ Harley fought the urge to get up and put her ear to the door. Selina was a _Falcone?_ Even having grown up 2000 miles from Gotham, Harley knew that name and what it meant.  Suddenly her take-charge attitude made perfect sense.  _Remind me never to piss her off._

                “I didn’t _do_ anything,” Selina objected, sounding frustrated.  “It was not me. I _have_ to talk to him in person.”

                “The answer is no.   You’re being ridiculous!  What are you going to do, look him in the eye and he’ll just _know_ you’re telling the truth?”  J was clearly mocking Selina, and Harley knew she wasn’t going to take kindly to that.  “Why can’t you talk to him on the phone?”     

                There was silence for a moment and then J’s laughter started up.

                “Oh, I see. He’s not answering your calls, is he?”

                More silence.

                “I just need-“ Selina started.

                “You _need_ to concentrate on this tour!”  The Joker was angry again. “What are you going to do…pound on his hotel door until security drags you away and you’re all over the news stalking a billionaire?  That’ll look _great_ , won’t it?  You give me shit about my behavior.  When it’s something _you_ want, well, fuck discretion and fuck who’s watching, right?” 

                “You wouldn’t understand because your only deep, meaningful relationship is with a vodka bottle,” Selina snapped back.

                Harley heard a loud crash in the direction Selina’s voice had come from.  She started to wonder if she needed to break things up.

                “And yours is with someone else’s husband! Oh, _forgive_ me. Someone else’s _widower._ ” 

                There was another long pause but she could hear J muttering on the other side of the door.

                 “I’ll make sure you’re set up for tomorrow night but I’m leaving after that.  This is my life and it’s not your decision.”  Selina sounded calm and resolute whereas J was clearly losing his mind.          

                “You do that, you better take your shit with you because you’re not coming back,” he growled.

                “Understood,” Selina answered.  She slid the door open and walked through, sliding it shut behind her. Something hit it on the other side and there was a sound of glass shattering.  Selina turned to see Harley looking at her with wide eyes.  She sighed.

                “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

                “Wait–“Harley scrambled to her feet.  “You’re not actually leaving me alone with him, are you?”  She was horrified.

                “You’ll be fine,” Selina said, crawling back under the covers on her couch.  “He loves _you_.  You haven’t shown any sign of having a priority higher than him, yet,” she observed ruefully. 

                 Harley wanted to ask more questions, but Selina had already closed her eyes and made it clear she was done talking. She flopped back onto the couch herself, wondering if it was possible to actually die of stress. 

* * *

                Six thousand miles away, Bruce Wayne paced around his hotel room, occasionally looking down at his sleeping son.  He could see the shiny lines running down his young face in the moonlight, the tracks of the tears that kept falling when he remembered his mother was dead.

                _I am responsible for this,_ he thought.  _I created it, and I can’t undo it._

How he wanted to believe that Selina had nothing to do with Talia’s accident!  His mind came up with new explanations every ten minutes, some of them perfectly believable, but his logical mind overrode them.   Yes, Talia had other enemies – she made enemies as easily as breathing with her sharp tongue and her manipulative ways – but none of them had the kind of power to pull something like this off.  Except Selina.

                Bruce opened the door quietly and stepped out onto the balcony. The night was cold but he welcomed it, feeling like it might clear his mind of his unwelcome thoughts. He stared out into the blackness.  It matched his mood perfectly, matched how dark he felt inside.

                He recognized that he felt nothing about Talia’s death. Oh, he felt some measure of relief, as if someone had been pointing a gun at him for a very long time and suddenly they were disarmed.  But he knew he didn’t feel the sorrow he should have.  Even in a bad marriage, there should be more regret, more pain at what could have been, that feeling of having lost who the person used to be…

                But there was nothing.  If his son didn’t exist, he knew he would play the part of the grieving widower as long as propriety demanded, publicly grieve for a _decent period of time_ before slowly unveiling Selina.  Wait long enough that people would say _good for you!  Talia would have wanted you to be happy!_

                He would never need to ask Selina the question. He would just go forward and know that whatever she had done, she would not do it again, and that it had only been motivated by her love for him. 

                But he did have a son.  A son who lay in bed, finally asleep after sobbing for hours. A son who was feeling the sort of pain he knew from experience could never be completely overcome.  No matter what he wanted, he had no right to inflict this kind of suffering, this kind of permanent scar on his son, and he had surely done so, no matter who had done what, said what, given what order…he had permitted it, he had allowed it, encouraged it even.  He had _fucking joked about something happening to her._

The blood was on his hands, too. 

                And he couldn’t answer the phone when Selina called. He wanted to ask her and he didn’t want to ask her and he didn’t know if she’d tell him the truth and he didn’t know what he’d do if she did tell him the truth.  So he watched it buzz and just breathed in and out and waited for it to stop.  He knew it wouldn’t take long.  Her pride would stop her from calling soon and he would focus, 100%, on his son, who had deserved a better father.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selina sets off on her quest to clear her name, leaving a freaked-out Harley to handle her job and the Joker. He's behaving for now, but how long will _that_ last? 
> 
> Just a note - Remember that when you're reading the Joker's thoughts, they're the Joker's thoughts. They aren't necessarily the truth - they're how _he_ perceives situations. Actually, that's true of any character but it's especially strong with him so don't get all worried about his opinion of Bruce and Selina's relationship. :-)

  
_"To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved."  
~ George MacDonald_

                Amid thunderous applause, the band finally came off stage in Dallas.  It was almost midnight, but Harley could not have been more awake – or more gleeful.

                _Nothing went wrong!_ It had been a great show, and despite the absolute horror she’d felt when Selina got into a cab, bag in hand, before it started, nothing had gone wrong at all. 

                _I survived!_ She had a grin on her face wider than any fan in the audience as she followed the guys into the waiting limo.  This time there wasn’t a hotel at the venue and they were staying a short distance away, at the Four Seasons.  Harley was doing her best to channel Selina despite practically having the giggles, and she made sure everybody was safely inside the car before she joined them.  When she finally slid inside, the only place to sit was next to the Joker. 

                She admitted she was happy about that, and started to sit down but the driver took off abruptly as she did so and she landed right in J’s lap. 

                “Fuck,” she mumbled, simultaneously turning red. She tried to slide over to the seat but J chuckled and wrapped his sweaty arms around her waist, keeping her right where she had landed.

                “I _like_ this driver.  Make sure we use him again,” he instructed her. 

                Harley sighed and rolled her eyes but she was in far too good a mood to snap at him and, well, okay, admit it, sitting on his lap didn’t exactly suck.  He was minding his manners for the most part…his hands hadn’t strayed from her waist.  And she had to admit, the smell of cologne mixed with sweat wasn’t unpleasant…in fact it was turning her on.  She needed to distract herself from _that_ line of thinking.

                “You guys were great tonight,” she said, trying to sound somewhat businesslike, and not like a 21-year-old with a crush on her boss.

                _But you are a 21-year-old with a crush on your boss._

 _Be quiet, Harleen_ , said Harley, the famous tour manager. 

                “Thanks.  Awesome crowd tonight, really great energy,” observed Ozzie.  He could be just as obsessive as J about admiration and attention, Harley had noticed, and tonight he’d gotten his fix and then some, with a gaggle of screaming college girls at the front of the house who were screaming his name and then making out for his benefit.  Happy Ozzie was quite a nice change from the mopey guy she’d had to deal with all morning so Harley decided groupies might serve a purpose after all.  As long as they stayed away from J, that is. 

                “Yeah, fun night,” agreed Eddie.  “Texans do know how to party.”

                “When they’re not shooting everybody, but then that’s just a different kind of party,” J added, smiling at Harley.  It made her shiver, which of course he felt because she was sitting on his lap. His grin deepened.  “Oz, why don’t you crack open a bottle of champagne?  Tonight is worth celebrating!”

                Of course the limo had everything – _because of course it did,_ thought Harley – and within minutes they each had a glass of Veuve Cliquot and were toasting to a successful show. 

                “Has anyone heard from Selina?” Eddie asked.   Selina had given an official excuse about a death in the family and having a funeral to attend.  Only the Joker and Harley knew the truth about where she had actually gone and he had apparently forgotten the cover story because he snorted in disgust and opened his mouth to launch into a tirade.

                “Fuck-“

                Harley elbowed him in the ribs, none too gently.

                “-Poor Selina,” J said, revising the comment that had almost come out of his mouth.  “I feel terrible for her.”

                Harley let out the breath she had been holding.  _Good boy, much better,_ she thought.  The entire band didn’t need to hear about Selina’s personal life.  Harley didn’t know what was going on for sure, and was still reeling from the revelation that Selina came from the most infamous mob family in America, but she was still protective of her friend and wanted to make sure her cover story held up until Selina herself chose to tell everyone the truth.  If she ever did. 

                She noticed Eddie watching her with great interest.  He was clearly trying to figure out exactly what was going on between J and herself.  Harley had noticed Eddie spent much of his life observing and analyzing others. He kept his findings to himself…but he was always watching.  The guitar player was an interesting guy, not to mention a good looking one, and like J, he was single.  Unlike J, he was 100% sober – a freak about clean living who put nothing into his body that wasn’t organic and healthy.

                _If you had any sense, you’d go for that one,_ Harley’s rational side advised.  Of course, that side had no power whatsoever over the side that shivered every time J tightened his arm around her waist.  Harley realized she was drinking far too much champagne in an effort to do something with her mouth that wasn’t speaking. She was sure anything that came out of it right now would sound dumb.  Fortunately, there wasn’t much possibility of getting a word in edgewise with J reading tweets about tonight’s show out loud to the other guys, cackling with laughter at the most over-the-top ones. 

                “Oh, this one likes you, Ed!” he announced and started reading, “3rd row tonight OMG Eddie sweated on me. Im dying best day of my life!”  J laughed, while Harley rolled her eyes. 

                “Ugh, these girls.  I can’t even,” Harley said dismissively, and dramatically polished off the last of her champagne, holding her glass out to Ozzie for a refill which he quickly provided.

                “You were probably just as bad when you were 15,” J told her.  “I’m sweating all over you, and I’m a _huge_ star. Tell me this isn’t the best day of your life!” 

                Harley giggled.  “Well, it might be, but not because of your sweat.”

                Ozzie and Eddie both laughed at that.  “Burrrn,” observed Ozzie. 

                The limo pulled up to the back of the hotel and the driver came around and opened the door.  Harley attempted to get up gracefully from J’s lap and pull herself out to the sidewalk but she caught her toe on the curb and tripped, slamming painfully down on one knee and swearing under her breath.  The Joker was right there, pulling her back up.  Her knee stung and she limped on it as he pulled her a few steps forward.  He noticed and bent down for a second, then swept her up to carry her, one arm under her knees and the other at her back.  Harley opened her mouth to protest, but she was suddenly very sleepy and things kept moving in directions they shouldn’t have been.

                “I can walk,” she mumbled.

                “Not very well,” J answered, laughing at her and refusing to put her down.  Harley gave up and just zoned out as he carried her in to the hotel.  She hoped no one was watching but they had entered in through the back and were going through the kitchen to the service elevator, so no one saw them except staff – who knew better than to take pictures.  And really, a drunk girl being carried through their kitchen by an A-lister was a pretty tame Saturday night compared to _some_ of the things they’d seen.

                They got up to the top floor and Harley dimly heard the guys saying goodnight but she suddenly felt too tired to answer, and entirely too comfortable with her head against the Joker’s shoulder.  Before they had even made it down the hallway, she was fast asleep. 

* * *

                Selina unconsciously held her breath as the elevator carried her up to the penthouse of Wayne Enterprises’ Los Angeles tower. So far, all the codes had worked.  His car had been in the parking structure.  She prayed that he was alone, knowing there was no way she could explain her presence if he was not.   Coming here was a risk but she didn’t have this kind of access to him anywhere else, and as J had scathingly pointed out, she didn’t need to get caught looking like his obsessed stalker.   Selina still had her pride, and destroying her professional reputation wasn’t going to make things better.  

                The elevator reached the penthouse and she stepped off.  She had made a conscious effort not to look as though she was trying to use her looks to manipulate him, and was dressed in a simple black cotton blouse with jeans, flats and no makeup.  Bruce was not only an intelligent man, but a perceptive one, and if she’d have made any effort whatsoever, she knew he would have been more suspicious of her. 

                _Besides, the lack of heels made for a quieter entrance_ , she thought.

                He was right where she thought he would be, working at his desk, his slightly rumpled suit and hair the only sign that things weren’t quite normal.  If there was one thing she knew about Bruce, it was that no matter what happened, he would keep to his responsibilities.  They were much alike in that way, and he knew she was the same, so he would not expect her to show up tonight. He knew her schedule and the idea of her missing a show was highly unlikely.  She hardly made any noise coming into the room, but the motion caught his eye and he looked up from his papers. 

                Selina watched as his eyes lit up, seeing her, before he got his face back under control.  It made her hopeful – no matter what he might be thinking, her presence still affected him.  He cleared his throat.

                “I should have answered the phone when you called,” he admitted.  “Things are…overwhelming right now.”

                She nodded.  “I’m sure.”

                “Sit,” he waved at the chairs across from him.  He had the look on his face of a man steeling himself to do something he was dreading, and it scared her.  She sat down, knowing she needed to take control of the conversation immediately.

                “Bruce, I came here because I need you to listen to me.  You don’t have to listen to me ever again, but hear me out tonight.”  Selina took a deep breath.  “I did not have anything to do with what happened. My family did not have anything to do with it.  I was as shocked as you were when I heard.  You have my word.”  She stopped, reminding herself to give him a chance to speak.  Slowly, he closed the folder of papers on his desk and looked up.  He looked incredibly tired and she wondered when the last time was that he’d really slept.

                “Who, then?”  His question hung in the air.  She didn’t have an answer, and she knew what he was saying.  Who else would have the resources to make that happen?  Who else would have the motive? 

                “I’ll find out,” she promised. 

                “My son is…absolutely destroyed.  Apparently even a bad mother is better than no mother at all. I don’t know what to say to him.  I remember what it felt like when I lost my parents. Nothing helped.”  He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with a hand, remembering, and sighed.  “I need to know who did this.”

                The unspoken words hung in the air between them.  _I need to know for sure that it wasn’t you._   Selina understood.  If the situation were reversed, she acknowledged she’d have felt the same.  She was no more capable of offering up blind trust than he was.  And she’d always known _who_ he was.  The fact that he had ethics deeper than advancing his own interests was something she’d been attracted to from the start. It was so rare in her world, but it was truly who he was and she admired it even now, when it was keeping them apart. 

                She stood up and turned to go but heard his voice behind her.

                “Thank you.  For coming.”  Selina paused and turned back to answer.

                “I’ll be in touch when I know something,” she told him. “Answer your phone.”  

                A faint smile crossed his face in response.

                _It will be all right,_ she told herself.  _After I find out who really killed her._

* * *

                Once in Harley’s room, the Joker carefully set her down on the bed and went to the closet to pull out extra blankets.  He covered her up and decided he should just take off her shoes.  Didn’t want her thinking he had done anything he shouldn’t have in the morning.  She hadn’t even had that much to drink, he thought.  _Lightweight. I’ll have to work on her tolerance._

                His phone was blinking with a half-dozen text messages he hadn’t bothered to open.  He knew most of them were from girls he’d met in Dallas on other trips, girls who now had his cell phone number and wanted to let him know they were still in town and would _very_ much like to see him. Ordinarily, he would have picked a name…or more than one.  He wasn’t the least bit tired.  He’d feel like he was dying in the morning, he always did, but right now he was still experiencing the high he always felt after performing. 

                There weren’t a lot of drugs he hadn’t tried, but nothing really came close to 20,000 people hanging on your every word, _screaming_ for you, wanting you more than their next breath.

                _And here I am with one who has passed out and is ignoring me,_ he thought, amused.    

                He settled himself into the overstuffed armchair in the corner of the bedroom and thumbed through the messages. Nothing from Selina, and he certainly wasn’t texting her first, when she was the one who owed him an apology.  It still stung that she had simply walked off like that, for what?   Some guy who didn’t care enough to answer her phone calls.  The Selina he knew would have been at the show, brilliantly doing her job, and a guy like Bruce would be damn lucky if she _bothered_ to answer the phone if he called.  This infatuation of Selina’s was a headache, one that would hopefully be over soon.

                Not that her absence had been a problem, he thought.  To the contrary, things had run well. If there had been any complications this evening, he didn’t know about them, which was exactly the way he liked things.  Harley had done well.  It was amusing watching her try to be highly professional and Selina-like when she was clearly losing her mind inside at the thought of what she was doing and who she was doing it with.  Her inner fangirl was nowhere near as well hidden as she believed, but it was cute watching her try. Plus, she was always so obviously worried about doing a good job, which he appreciated.  It was nice that _someone_ took his needs seriously.  

                The only good thing about Selina being gone is he didn’t have to hear her lectures about leaving Harley alone.  He could still hear her. She sounded like his _mom_ and one thing he did not need was another mother.  It had been a relief when the useless one he’d had finally drank herself to death two years ago and the endless demands for money _or I’ll have to get it by selling stories about you, you’re leaving me no other choice_ had finally stopped.

                The Joker couldn’t remember a time when his mother had ever put him first.  When they were young, and his father was still alive, they’d lived well. He didn’t really know what his father had done for a living, but he knew he wasn’t exactly an insurance salesman. There were always conversations that stopped when he came into the room.  They had a nice house and Jack was their only child.  His mother was beautiful in those days, but selfish.  Her concern for him was mostly focused on how he made her look, so he got in trouble if he got dirty, or got a B in school, or made too much noise.  He got snapped at a lot, particularly in the evening after she’d started drinking her wine.  Rules, rules, everywhere…rules. 

 _No rules now,_ he thought, grinning to himself.  _Except the ones I make for other people._

                His dad wasn’t much for rules, but he wasn’t home much, either. When he was, he often took Jack with him on business trips.  His mom didn’t like that, but Jack’s dad was the boss of the house and his usually shrill-tongued mother didn’t dare cross him.  They would take the good car – a shiny red 1975 Cadillac Eldorado convertible with a spotless white leather interior – and cruise around town. Sometimes his dad would go meet with someone and pick up envelopes and papers and stuff.  Sometimes friends of Jack’s dad would join them, bubbly girls with big hair and red lips who were always in a good mood and were nice to Jack, nothing like his mom.   Other days they’d just drive up the coast, the top down and the ocean breeze ruffling up their hair, the loud rock music his father loved blasting from the car stereo.

                The rule was any time Jack and his dad went somewhere together, it was secret time between them. Jack had to pretend like he was a spy on a mission and never reveal anything that happened or anybody they met with, especially not to his mother.  He loved those trips and they were the best days of his young life.   He wished he had that car right now.  It would be fun to take Harley for a drive in it on a day off, and he knew she’d love it.  He made a mental note to add that car to his collection and have it waiting when they got back to California. 

                He stretched in the chair, throwing his legs over the arm. Tonight his back was hurting.  His own fault, he hadn’t stretched before the show the way he usually did because he was too busy bickering with Selina before she left.   He needed to get up and go back to his room so he could stretch out.

_Or you could just sleep here._

                The thought unsettled him. He didn’t _like_ sleeping with other people in the bed.  Never had.  He thought it was one reason he’d never even lived with a woman.  Women had their purposes, _some more so than others,_ but when that was over, he didn’t like them sticking around.  It stressed him out.  He liked peace and quiet, not questions, not someone trying to get into his head and find out what he thought about them. The answer was usually “not much,” and that wasn’t something you could say if you didn’t want to deal with a bunch of needless drama.  But tonight, it was like all the space next to Harley’s tiny form on the king-sized hotel bed was pulling him in. 

 _Ridiculous_.  He wasn’t some teenager with a crush.  She was just interesting because she was a little bit of a challenge, and that was probably exactly her plan.  It wasn’t hard to figure out that a guy like him could get most women to do exactly what he wanted, so doing the opposite was Psychology 101.  He wasn’t that gullible, and it had been tried before.  _Ozzie_ was that gullible. He’d watched Marina put on her best innocent act to lure his bandmate, even though that little social climber had been working her way steadily upward from one famous dick to a more famous one for the previous eight years. But you couldn’t tell Ozzie anything, back then.  He was in _looooove_ and the next thing you knew, he was married to that harpy and she was spending all his money and making his life miserable.  Sometimes he left but then she’d cry and tell him she loved him and he’d go running back.  Pathetic.  

_Good thing I’m not that stupid_ , the Joker thought.  He got up, stretched and walked out of Harley’s room, being careful not to wake her. 

* * *

                Selina’s fingers flew as she tried to finish sending all the messages and calls she needed to before the plane took off.  God, she _hated_ flying commercial.  She texted J and told him she’d be in New York when they arrived in two weeks.  By now she anticipated he’d have cooled down. She knew nothing had gone wrong last night and was pleased that her faith in Harley had been rewarded.  She _probably_ still had her job.

One more call to make.  She found the number in her contacts and her cousin answered after only one ring. 

                “Selina.  To what do I owe the honor?”  asked the gruff voice on the other end, sarcastic as ever.

                “Mariano.  I’ll be in town tomorrow and I need some help with…research.  Can you meet at Gramercy for lunch at one?”

                He snorted, “You ever going to come just to see your family and not want something?”

                “Not likely. But I’m buying.”

                “I’ll see ya then,” he said, hanging up the phone. 

                Selina smiled.  She couldn’t wait to find out who had killed Talia, but this was going to have to be handled carefully. Bruce would want them brought to justice in the traditional sense so it didn’t help to get evidence through illegal means.  Of course, that didn’t mean she couldn’t use illegal means to find out where to look…the GCPD had _never_ minded the occasional, anonymous, completely accurate tip.

                The announcement came over the loudspeaker about shutting off electronic devices, and Selina made a face.  _Annoying_.  Once they were in the air, she could get on the wifi and get back to work researching Talia and everybody she had pissed off in the past six months.  Selina wished it wasn’t such a damned long list.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know that day at work that you just _can't_ wait for it to be over with? Harley is having that day, and it's not over yet. The Joker is damn lucky this story is an AU and she doesn't have a gun or a bat. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Bruce has regrets and Selina gets closer to uncovering why Talia was killed - but neither has any idea of the massive hornet's nest they are about to step into.
> 
> (You'll probably get one more chapter out of me by the end of the week, but then there's going to be a break of a week or so because...real life. And I promise, next chapter is going to see things look up for Harley, in a couple of different ways!)

                _"Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead."_

__

__

                                                             ~ Benjamin Franklin

 

                Atlanta might possibly be Hell, Harley decided, finally tying a bandana around her forehead to keep the sweat out of her eyes.  How could it be this hot in _March_?  She was miserable and cranky as she ran back and forth, trying to make sure everything was being set up properly. To make matters worth, the general manager of this venue was the high-anxiety, particular type who was up her butt about virtually _everything._ Brenda made her look like the calmest person on earth in comparison. She’d never wanted so badly to tranquilize a human being. 

                And to top it all off?  She had no idea where the Joker was.  He was around for sound check at 4:00, but now it was 6:00 and she couldn’t find him anywhere, nor was he answering his texts.  His bandmates didn’t seem too concerned, reminding her that no matter what he did, he’d never been more than a half hour late for a show.  That wasn’t a comforting thought. She could just imagine Brenda, who seemed just this side of a panic attack at all times, if J didn’t take the stage on time.

                At least Selina was answering her messages promptly, which made her feel better, although it wasn’t like having her there in person to order people around.  Harley was ordering people around because she had no choice, but she felt like any minute, someone was going to ask her if she was old enough to drink yet and laugh.  She felt like she’d never convincingly master Selina’s imposing manner.

                _This tour is giving new meaning to “fake it ‘til you make it,”_ Harley thought.  She _had_ to find J. She found Eddie, who told her they’d delivered a rental car a couple of hours ago and J had promptly disappeared.

                “He promised he’d be back in time for the show,” Eddie assured her.

                “That isn’t exactly reassuring when he doesn’t even answer his messages,” Harley grumbled. 

                _Probably has some skank here in town he wanted to go see,_ Harley thought bitterly, while walking around waving her phone in the air, desperately trying to get some reception. What kind of a godforsaken venue was this where she couldn’t even get two bars and how could the wifi be down?  They didn’t have a backup system?  Could it _be_ more humid?   Even in a tank top and shorts, she was dying.  She knew her attire wasn’t helping the perception that she was a teenager who stole an access pass, but the thought of wearing anything more formal in this sauna made her queasy.  How people lived here, she didn’t know.  Harley missed the cool nights in Malibu and the ocean surf more than she thought possible.   At least they were heading north after this show, and that _had_ to be an improvement.  

* * *

                Meanwhile, Selina was at the best vintage shop in Gotham, running her fingers over the butter-soft leather of a black Hermes bag when her cousin called. 

                “What a pleasant surprise,” she said into the phone, letting him know she was in public.

                “I got what you were looking for. Well I got information, anyway.”

                “That would be lovely,” she answered sweetly.  “Where shall we meet?”

                “Don Peppe. I gotta meeting there anyway.”

                Selina couldn’t help but roll her eyes and groan.  It was no wonder these guys got caught all the time – they were predictable creatures of habit, hanging out at the same five restaurants to discuss business.  You could be the laziest cop in the world and catch them.  But given that she was trying to learn about someone _else’s_ crime, she decided the location was safe enough.

                “8:00.  You’re buying. I _don’t_ carry cash.”  She hung up and looked at the bag again.  It was _only_ $2200, very reasonable for a vintage Hermes bag in this condition.  Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest thing to do given the current chaotic state of her life, but sometimes, when life got tough, a girl needed something beautiful to give her a lift.  What were credit cards for?

* * *

                Harley was sitting in the green room of the venue, munching carrot sticks and trying not to panic, when the Joker strolled in.  His green hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, his knees looked like he’d been crawling on the floor and he was whistling as though he didn’t have a care in the world. 

                “Where the fuck were you?” Harley yelled, jumping to her feet, her anxiety level overcoming any thought of professional behavior.   J just looked at her, amused, which pissed her off even more.

                “Settle down, cupcake.  I had a few things to take care of in town,” he replied breezily, stripping off his dirt-streaked t-shirt as he headed toward the bathroom in the back.   Harley charged after him, ranting. 

                “It’s 7:15, you’re on at 8:00.  I can probably buy you 15 more minutes but that’s it.  We have staff, you know, people who work for you? Whatever you had to do, I could have _sent_ someone-“  She came around the corner and gasped when she saw he already had his pants off and was stepping into the shower.  Harley whipped her head around, automatically averting her eyes and J burst out laughing. 

                “You can join me and keep yelling at me if you want,” he offered.  “You look like you need to cool off.”   She refused to turn back around but that was giving him a lovely view of her curvy little butt in her cut-off shorts that he didn’t mind one bit.  And her reaction to walking in on him naked was adorable. Selina, at this point, would have had an entire conversation with him whether or not he was dressed and barely even noticed. 

                “Thanks but I’m a little busy,” she responded, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  “You were supposed to be here at 5:45 for an interview with Access Atlanta.  They weren’t very interested in talking to me!” 

                “What’d you tell them?”

                “Told them we were having technical difficulties with the show and rescheduled it for 10 A.M. tomorrow.”

                “Good girl. You didn’t even lie,” he called from the shower. 

                “What are you talking about? We’ve tested everything for tonight and I didn’t see any problems. Is there something I should know about?”

                He laughed “Nope. Technical difficulties all taken care of.”

                _He’s up to something,_ Harley thought. _That’s his, I’m pulling some shit and you don’t know what it is yet, voice._  She couldn’t resist turning back around. The glass was fogged up so she could only see the outline of his body but even that looked so good, she couldn’t help but be affected by it.  _I would definitely be better at staying mad at him if he wasn’t so hot._

“Please tell me you didn’t do anything that is going to get you arrested tonight,” she begged. “I’m really hot and tired.  I hate this miserable place, the venue manager is a raving bitch, I can _not_ deal with the police station after this, and your lawyer isn’t here.” 

                In response, he reached over the top of the door with the shower attachment and blasted her smack in the chest with the cool water.  Harley shrieked in surprise, and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, looking exactly like she’d just entered a wet t-shirt contest in her now-soaked white tank top and cut off shorts. Predictably, he was giggling.

                “For fuck’s sake,” she grumbled, refusing to admit she actually felt a lot better.  “I should have gone to daycare training instead of music school!”  Harley charged out of the bathroom and almost ran into J’s local makeup artist, who had just arrived, lugging her kit and suitcase.  The girl dropped them, and turned to see Harley emerging from the bathroom, soaking wet, and looking embarrassed.

                “I am so sorry, is this a bad – I can come back!” she babbled, scrambling to pick up her bags again.

                “No, you’re perfect, there’s nothing – You didn’t interrupt anything, well maybe a murder.  I was just about to kill him,” Harley told her with a smile.  “You probably saved his life!”  With that, she swept from the room.  She’d just have to deal with whatever he had done when she found out about it. 

                _No wonder Selina dyes her hair,_ she thought.  _It’s probably all gray already from dealing with him!_

* * *

                Bruce Wayne looked out at the ocean from his balcony.  Malibu was quieter than usual for a Saturday night, although the mere absence of the Joker accounted for a great deal of that. On this particular night, he couldn’t even hear the usual music from someone else’s party or the honk of horns as impatient Angelenos fought for parking. 

                Tonight, there was nothing but the sound of the surf, and even his cellphone had mercifully gone silent.   It had been two weeks since Talia’s death and the sympathy calls had finally tapered off.  Damien was at a sleep-over at his buddy’s house in the Palisades, something Bruce had encouraged. The kid needed to go hang out with kids his own age, and even though he knew they would do nothing more constructive than eat pizza and play video games all weekend, he was fine with that.  Sometimes, when you were sad, a good distraction was better than all the therapy in the world.  He wished he had one. 

                He wished he had Selina, standing here with him. 

                How had he ever made such stupid choices?  He looked back ten years to the man he had once been, a man consumed with the lust for money and power.  Women back then were just fun distractions. Talia fit the profile, young and beautiful and a rising star. Arm candy, as they say.  Did he miss her true nature because his own was nothing to brag about back then?  Or was he simply so selfish that he never looked that carefully at anyone else?  They didn’t matter, after all – he was the CEO, the billionaire.  He was the one who had come back from unspeakable tragedy as a child to become one of the biggest power players in America.  Personally, he was the textbook definition of emotionally unavailable.  He had stopped being emotionally available the night he lost the two people he loved most, and he was comfortable that way.  Bruce didn’t see much of a point in trying to recover a capacity to feel that he’d seen cause so much trouble for others he knew.  Much better to be logical-minded and concentrate on building his empire.

                Fatherhood, however unplanned and unanticipated, had changed him in ways he had never anticipated.  It was like a light switch flipped and he started paying attention to the world outside the walls of Wayne Enterprises.  He worried about what it would be like when his son was thirty or forty. Bruce got involved in politics for the first time, and started a nonprofit to fight for the environment.  He was deeply involved in his son’s education, more so than Talia, and always made time to be present at Damien’s school activities, no matter how insane his work schedule. 

                Bruce started to really look at other people, and care about them, in a way he never had when he was younger.  He became more aware of the good and the bad in both his personal and business connections.  Deep down, he started to yearn for what he had lost at such a young age, the unconditional love that had died when his parents had been so cruelly taken from him.  Suddenly money and power weren’t enough anymore.   He loved his son, but he wanted a partner in life and someone he could trust absolutely.  Bruce knew he could never have that kind of relationship with someone as self-centered, grasping and manipulative as his wife.

                When he met Selina, he mused, he probably saw a lot of himself in her.  A beautiful woman who was so wrapped up in work that nothing else existed.  A woman who was just fine with that, because no matter the chaos in her job, it was still something she could control and master.  Selina didn’t like being out of control, and that quality drew him to her.  He related to her and felt like he’d met a kindred spirit. 

                And then, he had destroyed that control, and right now, he felt immensely guilty for that. Oh, she had maintained her façade when he saw her last week. He expected nothing less.  Her understanding and acceptance, her quiet resolve to just go fix the situation, as she fixed everything else in her life, was 100% Selina.  He could have, should have, said something to reassure her, but he’d been weak.  He wanted her to go fix it, and was confident she would.  He knew how much pain she was in, how worried she was that she was losing him, and he let it ride because it benefited him that she was so motivated to solve his problem.  _His_ problem, not hers.

                _You’re no better than that green haired lunatic she works for,_ he thought.  _You were perfectly fine with her going out to solve a murder, put herself in who knows what danger, all because she loves you._

_You’re an asshole._

                _Well, at least you’re an asshole with his own jet,_ he thought, and headed back into the bedroom to pack his bag, calling his personal pilot as he went. 

* * *

                The concert was almost over when Harley’s phone vibrated and she saw it was Selina calling.  She stepped away from her usual stage-side position to answer.

                “Hey,” Harley said into the phone, knowing she sounded completely wiped out. 

                “I heard what he did.  I already talked to them,” Selina said, sounding equally tired. 

                _Crap._ “Selina, I’m _here_ and I don’t know what he did.  I only know he disappeared for two hours and I was worried he’d miss the whole show.  I’m scared to ask.”

                “He somehow made it over to the Phillips Arena and made some changes to Monster T’s video show.”

                “Crap!  I’m so sorry, he had a rental car delivered – I didn’t even know about it.  I didn’t know Monster T was playing here.  I should have known that, I fucked up.”

                “Not your fault,” Selina assured her. “You can’t watch him every second while you’re setting up for a show.  Anyway, T has this whole entrance with lions. They're holograms but he looks like he’s on stage with them and emerging from the pack.”

                “Yeah, I’ve seen it on Youtube, it’s pretty cool.”

                “Well, tonight it was kittens.  _Pastel_ ones.”

                “What?” Harley was incredulous. “How did he even do that?”

                “Clearly he had help on the inside.  They were even meowing.  Little kitten meows.  The message was pretty clear."

                "Oh my God...J is going to get shot in a drive-by if he keeps this up and we'll both be out of a job."

                "I might already be.  Of course, despite whoever was working for him, he had to go there too because it wouldn’t be any fun if he wasn’t personally involved.  They could get him with a couple of charges but they don’t want the publicity.  They’re going to blame it on hackers so we’re off the hook but of course _I_ heard about it.”

                “J’s not going to like that. He’ll want the credit for doing it,” Harley pointed out, which made Selina laugh.

                “You’ve caught on quick.  You’re going to have to have a talk with him.  Be creative, get him focused on something else, keep him off the Internet after the show if you can,” Selina advised.

                “I’ll do my best,” Harley answered.  "How are you?"

                "I'm fine.  I'll see you all when you get to Gotham."  Selina hung up and Harley stuffed the phone back in her pocket, knowing she had absolutely no idea how she could stop her out-of-control boss/faux boyfriend from running wild on Twitter the second the show was over. Then again, she ought to be creative enough to figure out some way of keeping a man’s attention off his cell phone. 

                 Her mind racing with ideas, Harley headed back to see how makeup was coming along.

* * *

                Sitting at his ornately carved antique desk on the 56th floor, Thomas Elliot looked across the skyline at the Wayne Enterprises tower and imagined what the view would look like from the penthouse office.  He was confident he would know soon enough.  Everything had gone according to plan so far, although he’d received some information tonight that was troubling.

                Why did the Falcone family care about Talia Wayne’s death?  He couldn’t quite fit those pieces together and it bothered him.  They were still a powerful crime family, to be sure, but they were strictly old school. They had no international interests.  The Falcones were happy enough controlling Gotham, or at least the seedy underbelly of Gotham.  They were big fish in a small pond, content to control the city at a local level.  It was a big deal for them if they had one of theirs in the mayor’s office.  International business, controlling the value of the dollar, controlling the stock market…those things were as far above them as rocket science would be to an auto mechanic. 

                But yesterday, the head of his Romanian production company had been found murdered.  At first, Thomas naturally assumed it was the work of a competing company – until he heard that the body showed signs of torture and that Horatiu had accessed the private server and downloaded materials very shortly before the end of his life. 

                _That_ was troubling, indeed.  Where were those files now?  Thomas knew there was no mention of his name or any company that could be traced to him, but there were other names in there.  Horatiu had run a search for “Talia” and downloaded every result.

                His phone was on his body when he was found, the garrote that killed him still buried in his neck, chemical burns on his hands, feet and face – but the sim card was gone. 

                Elliott sighed, wondering if he should simply close down their Romanian operation, but it was so lucrative that that thought of making that choice pained him.   It was such easy money.  The overhead was low, the risk almost nonexistent if one was careful, and the profit seemingly endless.   Indeed, it was the profit from the production companies that had funded the takeover he was about to execute. 

                Maybe when he had Wayne Enterprises in his grasp, he could sell off the production companies and relax, but not until then. In the meantime, he would put his best investigator to work. There had to be a link between the Falcone family and Bruce Wayne, and if he found it, not only would it solve this mystery, but it could be very useful for media spin when he launched his takeover.

                _When life gives you lemons, make lemonade_ , as his father always told him.  Elliot chuckled to himself.  He would turn whatever this was to his advantage.  Everything in life was something to be used – it was just a matter of figuring out how, and the first step was knowing more than any of the other players in the game.  He punched a button on his phone and waited for his P.I. to answer.

                "Got a new project for you.  There's a relationship between the Falcone crime family and Bruce Wayne. Find it."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK, I lied in chapter 12...you might get TWO more chapters this week. Why? Because I'm in the middle of moving and I'm supposed to be packing, but because I am absolutely _terrible_ at being an adult and time management, I am writing fanfic and will therefore end up scrambling madly and going without sleep and staying up all night chugging energy drinks in a desperate attempt to finish. Yay me!
> 
> Anyway, here's the first of those. Harley's day from Hell is almost over, and tipsy Harley returns, by request. Gotta say, she is funny af. :-)

_Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell._

_~ Joan Crawford_

 

                Harley was the last on the bus after having to go out and round up two errant sound techs who had met a couple of sorority girls in the beer line and lost track of the time.  She dashed up the steps, her wet hair still dripping from the quick shower she’d squeezed in after the show because she just couldn't stand to be hot and sticky one more minute.  Of course, now she was sweating again after her mad dash through the venue.

                _It’s like I’m a damn kindergarten teacher,_ she thought.  Why couldn’t these people act like grown-ups?  She re-folded her bandana and tied it around as a headband, pulling her wet hair back from her face. 

                “Hey Marty,” she called to their driver.  “Mr. J where he belongs?”

                “In his room. If he hasn’t climbed out a window.  You never know, with him.” Marty answered, chuckling. 

                “I’ll go check on that, but I think we’re cleared for take-off,” Harley told him.  Normally she liked to sleep over in a hotel after a gig, but tonight she just couldn’t wait to get out of this town. The air-conditioned bus felt heavenly after her long day.  She’d decided by noon that whoever got the bright idea to make outdoor concert venues should be _shot_.  Harley had a sunburn on her neck; she’d sweated off her sunscreen early and not had time to reapply it, but at least it hurt less after the cool shower. 

                She headed to the back of the bus and knocked on J’s door.

                “Pizza?” he called out hopefully. 

                Harley stuck her head in.  “Just me. Marty suggested I make sure you hadn’t climbed out a window.” 

                He was so transfixed by whatever was on his tablet that he didn’t even look up.  “Still here,” he mumbled. “But I’m hungry.  Can we order pizza?”

                “Sure,” Harley replied cheerfully, settling herself in the desk chair and looking for pizza in the next major town up the highway.  Finding vegan pizza in Georgia might not be the easiest thing, but compared to everything else she’d had to tackle today, it sounded positively relaxing.  She searched and found a place that was open until midnight.   “Pizza is possible but I don’t think they have vegan cheese anywhere south of the Mason-Dixon line.  Fortunately, I’ve got some in the fridge here.”

                He sighed dramatically.  “Guess that will have to do. Go ahead and order it and get a couple pepperoni pizzas and another veggie for the other bus and the truck driver.”

                Harley called in the order and called Marty to let him know they’d be stopping, while surreptitiously watching what J was doing on his tablet. Well, he wasn’t posting anything he shouldn’t be, because he wasn’t typing.  She breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she could stuff him full of pizza and a couple of beers and get him to go to sleep before he caused any trouble online?  Harley watched him, pretending she wasn't.

                What _was_ he so wrapped up in?  The only way she could see is if she sat next to him and she figured he’d take that as an open invitation.  Or not – given his level of focus on the screen, he might not even notice.  She sat down carefully next to him on the bed and drew her legs up under her, leaning over very slightly until she could see the screen.

                _Candy Crush Saga?_ The funniest part was how hard he was concentrating.  He looked like he was performing brain surgery or something.  She couldn’t help but snicker and it got his attention.

                “This is not easy, you know. I’ve been on this fucking level for two fucking weeks. I don’t think it’s possible.”

                “Which one is it?” she asked.  He failed it and started it over.  “Oh, 578?  Passed that a long time ago,” she bragged. 

                “Without boosters?”

                “Booster free. I’m a starving student, I can’t afford to pay,” Harley told him. 

                “How the hell did you do it without the fucking chocolate taking over? It’s driving me nuts!”  He got up and went to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of beer and opening them before handing one to her and returning to his spot on the bed. 

                “You just have to – wait, why am I telling you all my secrets?” she asked.

                “Bet you can’t do it again.”

                “Is that a challenge?” Harley giggled.  “What if I can?”

                He pushed the tablet in front of her.  “Pass it in three tries and I’ll give you a $1,000 bonus.”

                “What if I fail?”  Her question made him laugh. That girl was no fool.

                “Fail and you have to…” he thought about it for a bit and laughed.  “Take off one item of clothing for every failure.  Those sunglasses on top of your head don’t count.”

                “I didn’t know Strip Candy Crush was a thing.”

                “Is now.  I just invented it.  But since you’re _so much better than I am_ at this, I’m _sure_ you’ll triumph still fully dressed, right?”

                _How hard had that level been?_ Harley had no idea.

                _How many items am I even wearing?_ She silently took inventory. There wasn’t much margin for error here.  

                “I mean,” he drawled, “you don’t _have_ to play. You could just admit I’m better at it.”

                Harley snorted. “Uh, pretty sure you’re not.  You’re on.”  She grabbed the tablet and tried to remember how she had gotten through this level.  Harley started playing, but it didn’t help her concentration any that J felt the need to lean over her shoulder and narrate.

                “That bomb’s going to go off, you know.”

                She looked over her shoulder at him, “No, really?”  He was inches away and she found herself thinking about what it would be like to kiss him again. Why in the world she wanted to kiss someone who irritated her so much, she didn’t know.  _Annoying super-hot rock star with muscles everywhere and beautiful eyes,_ she thought.  She tried to concentrate on the board but got overly fixated on the right side of it and missed a bomb on the left side which, just as the Joker had predicted, went off.

                He cackled in delight.  “Told you so.”

                Harley rolled her eyes.  “You interrupted my concentration. Not fair.” 

                “Clothes off,” he whispered into her ear, making her deeply regret her decision to take off her dirty socks when she got into the bus.     

                Harley slipped the bandana off her head and twirled it around a finger before throwing it into the corner of the room.

                “That was a disappointing choice,” the Joker observed.

                “Life is full of disappointments.  Sometimes you’re expecting a lion and all you get is a kitten.”

                He started laughing so hard the bed shook.  “God, how I hope there’s video of his face.  Douchebag.”

                “I’m sure there will be by morning.  Now _be quiet_ and let me think,” she ordered in her sternest, most Selina-esque voice.  Harley started a new game and made sure she was scanning the board left and right at all times so that she didn’t miss anything. She got some combinations this time and kept the chocolate under control, but ran out of moves with a few jellies left.

                _Damn it._ She could _feel_ him smiling without even looking at him.  Harley slipped a hand under her tank top and unhooked her bra.  A few squirmy movements later, she pulled it out the arm hole and sent it flying to join the bandana on the floor.  She heard him suck in his breath behind her, and she smiled, gleeful about the fact that she was still, more or less, dressed. 

                “Harleyyyy?”

                “Yes?”  _She’d almost said yes, dear?  Control yourself, Harley!_  

                “Would you grab me another beer?  Pretty please?  I’m tired.”  He yawned for effect, but the truth was, he couldn’t get up because he was hard as a rock and having no luck talking himself out of it, and there was no way she wouldn’t see it if he got up.  Harley taking off her bra like that had been one of the sexiest things he thought he had ever seen, and sitting in front of him with only a thin tank top covering her was hotter than if she had been wearing nothing at all.  The girl had no idea how sexy she was, and _that_ was driving him crazy.

                Happy to put off the third game that would decide her fate, Harley compliantly bounced up from the bed and over to the fridge for more beer.  He couldn’t stop watching her or wondering what she’d take off next if she lost this round.   She handed him the cold bottle and crawled back on the bed, crossing her legs Indian style and bending over the tablet in intense concentration.  He could see the side of her breast through the arm hole of her dirty tank top, and he wanted to lean over and press his mouth to that delectable curve. 

                She wouldn’t stop him if he did.  He _knew_ it.

                “HA!” she suddenly shouted in triumph, holding up the tablet.  Surprised, he looked over her shoulder to see the cascade of candies and “Sugar Crush” written across the screen.  She dropped the tablet and jumped up, beer in hand, dancing and twirling around the tiny room. 

                “I get a thousand dollars, I get a thousand dollars, one thousand dollars all for meeeeee!” she sang as the Joker watched, amused beyond belief.

                _I spend more than that having drinks in Vegas,_ he thought.  He reminded himself not to complain – it was great that she was so easily impressed, and her little happy dance was pretty entertaining, especially in her bra-less state. 

                He looked around the room for his wallet, meaning to make good on his end of the bet, but as he did so, he realized the bus had stopped and looked confused.

                “The pizza!”  Harley announced.  “We must be in Marietta.”  She grabbed her purse and ran out the door.

                The Joker sighed.  _I never thought I’d think a pizza had shitty timing but…_

                By the time Harley got back to the room, he was fast asleep and snoring quietly.  She smiled and put his pizza in the fridge after grabbing a few pieces for herself.  Harley threw a quilt over him and quietly slipped out of the room, turning out the light as she went.

                She realized she was disappointed.  _Something_ had been going to happen, she was sure of it. The energy in the room…

                No.  It was still best if it didn’t, look, even the _universe_ sent a pizza to make sure it didn’t happen. If that wasn’t a clear message, she didn’t know what was.  It was the Pizza of Good Decisions, she thought, giggling at the thought as she bit into it.  _It wants you to find a nice guy your own age without so many issues.  This pizza is a manifestation of Mom!_ Harley could not stop laughing at her own thoughts as she settled herself down on the couch to eat, and almost choked on her own beer.  _I am your better nature, come to visit you in the form of a vegan pizza!_

_My better nature_ would _be a vegan pizza,_ she thought. _It’s fucking boring but it’s the right thing to do._ That thought made her laugh harder. 

                _I might be losing my mind. What if I’m losing my mind?  No, I’m just overtired. And I might have heatstroke. And I might be losing my mind!_

For some reason, she found that thought even funnier.  She giggled her way through two pieces of pizza, washed it down with the last of her beer and curled up under the quilt on the couch, thinking about how she was going to spend her bonus.   


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have these two storylines running off in _entirely_ different directions, so please forgive this weird combination of serious/dramatic content and utter fluff. It'll all come back together eventually! 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: for referenced child abuse. 100% guarantee there'll be nothing graphic in this story but the topic will exist for a while. 
> 
> I am moving and I packed my desktop. And then I realized like an idiot that I saved Wednesday's J&H Week one shot to its hard drive and not the cloud like a person with an IQ would have done. And because _I love you all_ , I'm gonna run downstairs and drag it back into the house _again_. If you're utterly dying because J &H haven't quite gotten to the smut part in this story, go check out my J&H Week One Shots where I guarantee you, I have shown no such restraint and it's about to escalate.

  _The strongest of all psychic forces in the world is unsatisfied desire_  
 _~ John Cowp_ er Powys

 

              The sun was just coming up to the west but Selina was already awake and working at her laptop, wrapped in the hotel's signature fluffy robe. She was still in shock from what Mariano’s contacts had discovered and was trying to research and confirm it, but being stymied by her inability to read Romanian.  Google Translate wasn’t turning it into any coherent form, either.  She was going to have to talk to his people directly.    

              There was a knock on the door. Finally, her coffee.  _You’d think they’d had to fly the beans in from Columbia, as slow as they were._   Selina hurried to the door and swung it open.

              Bruce was standing there, his suit rumpled and the side of his head looking like he’d slept on a plane.  Selina’s mouth fell open in surprise.

              “I – I thought you were my coffee.” 

              He smiled and raised a Starbucks cup.  “I am. Although I won’t blame you if you throw it at me.”

              “Waste a perfectly good latte? _Never_.”  She let him in and took the coffee from him with a smile.   He set a paper bag down on the table, filled with fresh bagels and cream cheese and took his own coffee from the tray. 

              “I brought breakfast…and I owe you an apology.” 

              Bruce Wayne looking sheepish was not really something she thought she'd see in this lifetime.  But it wasn't in her nature to give him the hard time he was expecting, so she just shook her head.  “You don’t.  Come, sit down, and I’ll fill you in on what I know.”  Selina turned to go back to the desk, feeling weirdly awkward around him.  She didn’t really know if he was there because of a sense of duty – which would be exactly like him – or something more. 

              He answered that question a second later when he pulled her back toward him, wrapping his arms around her.  She leaned back into his embrace, so relieved she couldn’t put words to it.

              “Bruce-“

              “Shhh.  I have not handled any of this well and I am sorry.  I love you and I know you weren’t involved,” he whispered into her ear. 

              “I think I know who was,” she told him, turning around.  “Talia found out about something she shouldn’t have in Romania.  I’m trying to verify my information now, but the story I got makes sense.”

              They sat down at the desk together and Selina pulled up a web site.  “This is Invincible Films, the company that was producing the movie Talia was working on when she died.  Legitimate company, newer, but solid record of awards, no major lawsuits.  It’s buried under a complex structure of limited liability companies, but I found the owner.  A guy named Thomas Elliott, who I believe you know.”

              Bruce’s eyes narrowed.  “I do. He and I were friends as children, but I don’t trust him at all. His father died in a very suspicious accident when he was still young and from what I know of his business dealings, Tom has been no saint.” 

              Selina nodded.  “He’s worse than you think.”

              “Was Talia causing trouble on set?” he asked. 

              “Not in the way you think.  But when she was on location, she somehow found out about Tom’s other production company.”

              “Porn?  Wouldn’t surprise me.”  Bruce paused, suddenly putting the pieces together.  “ _Shit_.”

              “Not the legal kind,” Selina confirmed.  “The kind you can film a lot of in a poor country where there are a lot of hungry, desperate people and a lot of easily-bribed officials. I’m not sure if Talia was threatening to report him or using the information to blackmail him – you know her better than I do – but either way, she died because she knew about it."  Selina was pretty sure it was the latter, but speaking ill of the dead was beneath her.  He could draw his own conclusions.

              Bruce swallowed hard and got up, staring out the window.  “Jesus.”  He turned back to her. “We’ve got to stop him.”

              “Yes,” she agreed, “but we have to think before we act.   First of all, this is going on in a foreign country and he’s probably got law enforcement paid off.  Second, he’s an extremely rich and powerful man.”

              He made a disparaging noise.  “So am I!”

              “Elliott has the home field advantage here, and we know he will not hesitate to kill.  You’re a businessman, not a police detective.  Getting yourself killed helps no one,” she reminded him calmly.  “My connections are more valuable than yours this time.  My father will be happy to help,” she spit out, her disgust at Elliott clear in her voice.

              “What will he want in return?” Bruce asked, knowing it was not Don Falcone’s nature to do one-sided favors. 

              “Do you care?” she asked simply. 

              He thought about that.  No, of course he didn’t care.  Any repercussions from having to do business with the Mob were preferable to allowing Elliott to continue his abominable business.  He needed to avenge the death of the mother of his child, and he needed to ensure the victims were brought to safety. Preferably in America.  He looked at Selina and nodded.

              “Call him. Do what you have to do,” he instructed her.  

              She smiled a little at that.  “He’s not such a bad guy, you know.”

              “Your father is by far the lesser of two evils in this scenario.” He pulled off his crushed jacket, loosened his tie and sat down on the edge of the bed, beckoning to her. 

              “Thought you wanted me to call my father?” Selina asked, but she was already up and slowly heading toward him.

              “Too early.  No sense making him mad. We might have to kill some time until it’s a decent hour,” he said softly.

              She straddled him and sank down onto his lap.  “So considerate of you.  _Such_ a gentleman.”

              With a growl, he flipped her over, pulling at her sash and slipping the robe from her shoulders in one fluid motion.  “Not always.”

* * *

              Harley burst in without knocking, absolutely furious and waving her phone.  J was sprawled on the bed in sweat pants and a tank top, watching the news.  He didn’t seem surprised to see her.

              “Delete that picture right now!”

              He looked at her with exaggerated innocence, his blue eyes wide.  “What picture?”

              “You _know_.  While I went to get _your_  pizza last night, you snapchatted my ass to millions of people!  Stop laughing, it’s not funny.”  She hadn't even realized her shorts were  _that_ short until she saw them zoomed in and close up, filling her screen.  

              “Your reaction to it is _very_ funny.”

              “And you wrote MINE HAHAHA across it!”

              “I thought that was a nice touch."  He was smiling and she wanted to smack him.  Or take his phone away and break it into a million pieces.    

              “It’s not _your_ ass!”  

              “Nope, tweeted _that_ yesterday. Have to keep the ladies excited and buying those tickets.”  He grinned.  "Maybe today they'll get a crotch pic...if they're very, very good."

              She growled in frustration.  “My _mother_ is on Snapchat.  And I told her there was nothing going on between us.  Imagine my surprise when she called me about the picture and asked me if I was turning into, and I quote, one of those Kardashian girls.”

              "Oh, how is Mom doing?  How's Lauren?  We really _must_ have dinner when we get back to California."

              Harley gritted her teeth.  "I appreciate what you are doing for my sister.  More than you will ever know. But you are my boss - that is it."  She sighed, frustrated.  "Hasn't this gone on long enough?  Can't we fake break up now?" 

              “You don't want that," he observed.  "You want to be in this bed more than anything in the world.”  He patted the space next to him and crooked his index finger.

              “I don’t –“ she stopped.  “I don’t act on everything I want.”

              He grinned, “Well, now we’re finally making progress!  You do want me, but something is stopping you.”

              “ _Something_?  I could make a list a mile long!”  _Stop laughing, you asshole._

“I’m listening.”  He muted the television and leaned back on his pillow, hands behind his head, giving her his full attention.  “ _Please_ tell me about why you’re so _determined_ not to do what you’re obviously _dying_ to do.”

              _For god’s sake Harley, stop staring at his crotch,_ she snapped at herself.  

              “Let’s start with this:  You’re my boss.”

              “You’d _get_ a raise,” he cackled.  She just rolled her eyes in response. 

              “You’re an alcoholic and a drug addict.”

              “Neither. I choose what I do and could stop at any time.  Besides, that’s _never_ affected my performance.”

              _Damn it here I go turning red again,_ she thought, feeling the prickle as a blush crept across her face. 

              “You’ve been with everybody!  You don’t even _know_ how many women you’ve slept with.”

              He shrugged, admitting it.  “Practice makes perfect.  Want to see my test results?”

              “I don’t want people saying I got to where I got in my career on my back.”

              J gave her an offended look.  “It wouldn’t _just_ be on your back. I’m not that boring.”

              Harley giggled despite herself, and then made an exasperated noise.  “Stop making me laugh!”

              “ _Never_.  Now, if you’ll calm down for ten seconds...and grab me a beer…I’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

              When she returned  with his drink, he moved over and patted the bed again.

              "Sit  _down_. I'm not going to bite you.  Well, not today, anyway."  

              Harley handed him the beer and then sat down at the end, her back up against the wall and her feet out in front of her.   Despite herself, she was interested to hear what he had to say.  

              “You’ve heard of the Met Gala, I presume?”

              “Of course.”

              He yawned and stretched, highly entertained by the way her eyes fixed on his muscular arms as he did so.  “They tend to invite me. I tend not to go. But since we’ll be in Gotham anyway next week, and not playing that night, I thought it might be fun for you.  It would be a good opportunity to meet people you wouldn’t ordinarily meet and make connections.”

              Harley eyed him suspiciously.  “Obviously, that’s an amazing opportunity for me.  What’s in it for you?  That’s not your idea of a good time.”

              He laughed.  “Well, that depends. It could be, if I was with you.”

              She shook her head.  “I’m not sleeping with you to meet Beyonce.”

              “I thought we already established I don’t need to bribe anyone for sex?  Look, I enjoy your company.”

              “Oh, cut the crap.  What are you really up to?  Who’s going that you’re trying to mess with?”  He grinned and she knew she was right.

              Instead of answering her, he flopped back down on the bed and picked up his tablet.  “Yes or no, Princess.  I have to RSVP and I have to order you something to wear if we’re going.  You _don’t_ own anything appropriate.”

              She flinched at that, but deep down she couldn’t deny how excited she felt.  _The Met Gala.  Holy shit._ Harley knew she didn’t have it in her to say no to that.  “I’m in,” she answered.  He didn’t look up but the corners of his mouth turned up and she decided to back out of the room before he took any more pictures of her. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting for me! I moved, been busy, blah blah... A lot more is written and there'll be more posted within the next few days for sure!
> 
> Everybody arrives in Gotham, Harley gets a couple of nice surprises, Bruce and Selina make more progress in their quest to stop Elliott in his tracks...but they don't know his research is proving fruitful as well. The next chapter is going to be a bit of a nail-biter!

_You don't go into battle because you're sure of victory._

_You go into battle because it's the right thing to do._

_~ C.J. Redwine_

 

              After a drive that felt like it would never end, they finally arrived in Gotham City.  Harley was excited; she’d never been there before and this was the biggest venue they’d be playing the entire tour. Even better, Selina had promised to rejoin them, so she'd finally get a breather. On top of everything else, they were here for almost a full week and staying at the Waldorf Astoria.  She would have time to go shopping with her bonus, and she couldn’t wait.  It was practically a vacation!

              When Harley got up to her room, she was surprised to see there was a box inside, already waiting for her. She dumped her suitcases and used her keychain to slit the box open.  There was a black and gold garment bag inside and she laid it out on the bed to unzip it.

              Inside was a dress…well, not just a dress but a mind-blowingly beautiful dress.  It looked exactly like stained glass, strapless with a v neck and a fitted bodice that gave way to a full, tea length skirt made of detailed panels with the iridescent stained glass print.  Even in the harsh light of the hotel room, you could see how the different bands would sparkle and change every time you moved.  There were pale blues, golds and greens on a base of cream silk that was almost, but not quite, transparent. 

              At the bottom of the bag was a box containing a pair of cream colored Badgley Mischka stiletto sandals with gold accents – the perfect match to the dress – along with a pale blue evening bag that matched the blue in her dress.  That had to have been handmade, and a quick inspection confirmed that it was.  Harley couldn’t even imagine how much this had all cost. 

              Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her back pocket.

              **Try it on.**

              She automatically whipped her head around to see if he was watching, but she was alone.  _Pull it together, girl,_ she told herself, and texted him back.

              **It’s beautiful. I will.**

Quickly shedding her clothes, she slipped the dress on, afraid to even let it touch the carpet. It fit perfectly, snug against her body but not too tight, and it felt _amazing_.  She slipped her feet into the shoes and walked to the mirror to inspect her appearance. 

              _Wow_.  Even with her hair in a ponytail from traveling and very little makeup on, she had to admit the effect was magical.  Every time she moved, light glinted off the dress in a different way.  The cut of the dress was perfect for her body type and looked great from every angle.  Harley giggled, twirling around in front of the mirror.  She felt like Cinderella despite her best efforts to be as blasé as Selina about the wealth that surrounded them.  Whatever this dress had cost – it was worth it!

              Her phone, lying on the bed, buzzed again and she grabbed it, smiling.

              **Does it fit?**

              **Perfectly** , she typed back. 

              **Send me a pic.**

No way was she sending him some goofy mirror selfie and ruining the effect of seeing her all done up at the Gala.  Men…

              **You don’t get to see it before the Gala.**

His response came quickly.

**It’s a party. We’re not getting married.**

Harley snickered and typed back.

**You need to work on your patience.**

**I should get an award for my patience with you,** he answered.

              **Maybe they’ll add a category to the Grammys just for you. You should suggest that.**

              Grinning, she put the phone back down and started to carefully remove the dress.  She wanted a hot shower and a long nap in what she knew was going to be the most comfortable bed ever.  The way things were going, she might _actually_ get enough sleep before this thing not to look like a hag! 

              She’d just replaced everything exactly the way it had arrived when her phone rang.  It was a 310 number she didn’t recognize, so it must be a business call.

              “Hello, this is Harley Quinn,” she said, remembering to use what had become her professional name.

              “What?”  Her sister was on the other end laughing.  “Oh, I forgot you have a _stage name_ now!”

              “Lauren!” Harley screamed into the phone. 

              “Yeah, still Lauren. No cool rock star names here!”

              Lauren sounded good.  So _clear_.  Nothing like the depressed, checked-out version Harley had last spoken with.  Her heart lifted at the sound of her sister’s voice.

              “How are you?  It’s so good to hear from you!”

              “I’m good.  Love the beach.  Never leaving.  We had _sleet_ at home this week.  Screw that.”

              They both laughed.  “Yeah, I don’t miss it,” Harley agreed.

              “Look, I called for a reason,” Lauren told her, her voice turning serious.  “I’ve been here for almost a month now and…this is the longest I haven’t been…this is the longest I’ve been sober since I was 17.  It’s hard.  You have to think about…well, you have to think about everything, you start to actually think again.  I realized I owe you an apology.”

              “For what? I’m so glad you’re sticking it out there.”

              “For being an asshole that ruined years of your life.  Don’t think I don’t remember how hard you tried to protect me and keep me alive and out of jail, how many times you didn’t get to do what you wanted because you were babysitting your fucked-up sister. You cared a lot more about me than I cared about me…”  Lauren’s voice broke and Harley knew she was crying.  “I just wanted to thank you.  I’m alive mostly because of you and I’m just so sorry.”

              “Stop crying, you’re going to make me cry,” Harley answered, knowing she was tearing up as well.

              “I got a restraining order against Jake already. Mom and Dad helped me, and we’re going to go for full custody of Olivia once I get out.  You were right about him.  Obviously. I feel like an idiot.  I don’t know why I didn’t see it.  I just couldn't see straight around him.”

              Harley breathed a sigh of relief and wiped her eyes.  “ You're not an idiot.  I’m proud of you.  I’ll be back in another month and I can’t wait to see you.  I’ll help you any way I can to get full custody.  God knows I’ve seen plenty of reasons Jake shouldn’t be around a kid.”

              “I know you’ll help. You always help me.  But I’m also calling to tell you, I’ve got other people helping me now.  I want you to stop worrying about me so much.  Mom says you call her twice a day to check.”

              “I just want to make sure you’re alright,” Harley told her.  Why in the world had their mother shared that?  She didn’t want Lauren to feel any guiltier than she already did.  _Parents._

              Lauren cleared her throat.  “I know.  But you’re living your dream and I want you to enjoy it.  Harls, I’m sober and I am going to stay that way. I’ve got lots of help, lots of support. You’re on tour with _The Joker_.  Mom says you’re going to the Met Gala with him.  I would _kill_ to be you.  Anybody we know would kill to be you.  Have fun and come back and tell me wild stories, okay?  You _don’t_ have to worry about me.  For once.”

              Harley smiled.  For once, she really _didn’t_ have to worry. It had been so long that she had forgotten what that felt like.  “I’m coming to see you the second I get home!  And let me know if you want anything cool from Gotham, that’s where I am right now and I got a big bonus, so I’m going shopping!”  

              They exchanged their goodbyes and Harley hung up, even happier than she’d been trying on the dress.  She was afraid to get her hopes up, but she truly hadn’t heard Lauren sound that good in years.  There was something to be said for the best help money could buy, and she knew who she had to thank for it.

              _I couldn't see straight around him._

             Harley sighed. That sounded familiar.  She'd stopped fooling herself that she wasn't flat out obsessed with her famous boss, who was over twice her age, drank more vodka than water, saw nothing wrong with using a line of coke to wake up in the morning, had more notches on his bedpost than there were bricks in the Great Wall of China, and was generally an _incredibly_ bad idea any way you looked at it.  And yet, she was powerless to discourage him.  Nothing made her happier than when he hung all over her in public, playing along with the public perception that they were dating.  She certainly couldn't talk herself into being attracted to anybody else, and she had tried, in a vain attempt to put herself back on a more well-considered path.  There were plenty of hot young guys her own age on this tour, most of them single, but try as she might, she couldn't shut off the fantasies about the Joker that played in her head in an incessant loop.

              Her initial impression of him had been an overgrown child with too much money and too little impulse control, and while that side still made regular appearances and shouldn’t be allowed the use of a cell phone or Twitter, there were other layers that had revealed themselves over the two months she’d worked for him.  He’d paid for Lauren’s rehab because he noticed Harley was worried and had taken it upon himself to find out why.  He _hadn’t_ taken advantage of her when he certainly could have, when she had gotten drunk and he’d put her to bed.  He was much smarter than he let on; when you were around him 24/7 and listened to him talk about business and politics, it was impossible to miss. 

              Even Selina didn’t know everything about him, Harley realized.  She had worked for him a long time but their relationship had clear boundaries – Selina’s closest relationship was with Take a Joke, Inc. and its many subsidiaries, concerns, employees and moving pieces. She was brilliant at the business end, but her focus on J was merely keeping _him_ focused and continuing to do the things he was required to do.  Selina was basically a sophisticated lion tamer, employed to ensure that the lion kept performing and didn’t eat anyone.  Employed _by_ the lion, who knew damn well he needed someone like her.

              His relationship with Harley was different.  She remembered the time, early on, when he had opened up to her at the house and let her in on some of the stress he was under trying to keep everyone happy and his magnificent lifestyle afloat.  It reminded Harley of how she’d been during high school, never showing any weakness because she needed to be the strong one and take care of her sister. 

              It was an exhausting way to live.  Did he have anyone who listened to him, anyone with whom he could just be himself?  If he did, Harley hadn’t seen it.  He hung out with the guys but they were guys – their conversations were pretty much limited to music, sports, women and complaining.

              _He needs a friend, even if he doesn’t know it,_ she thought.

* * *

              Bruce Wayne stood in front of the mirror in his Gotham City penthouse, inspecting the fit of his tuxedo which had just been delivered.  He smiled as he saw Selina come into view.  She came up behind him, just tall enough in her spike-heeled boots that he could see her emerald green eyes above his shoulder as she snuggled herself into him. 

              “How do I look?” he asked.

              “Like a present I’d like to unwrap,” she answered.  He turned around, grinned, and leaned down to kiss her. 

              “That sounds a lot better than the Gala.  Are you _sure_ you don’t want to attend?”

              She shook her head.  “You know that it’s too soon.  People would talk, and it would get back to Damian.  He’s not five, and he has a cell phone.”

              Bruce sighed.  “You’re right, but I wish you weren’t.  I hate not having you at my side.”

              “It won’t be like that forever,” she assured him.  “We’ve been discreet this long, a little longer won’t matter.  I don’t mind.”  Selina smiled at him and reached up to push an errant strand of his black hair back into place.  He caught her hand with his own fingers and gave it a squeeze.

              “Hey, any new information from your hacker friend this morning?” he asked.

              Selina nodded.  “Actually, yes.  We found all the money is going through a bank account in Andorra.  Andorra’s typically uncooperative with investigations, but even they don’t want to be a party to Elliott’s kind of business, so I’m getting electronic copies of everything. Should have that by tomorrow afternoon.”

              Bruce was impressed.  “You’re amazing.”

              She shrugged.  “I’ve just learned how to influence people and get things done.  See, my job has been good for something!  _Don’t_ roll your eyes.”

              “You’re about to tell me you're going back to work, aren’t you?” 

              Selina looked down.  “I know you’re not thrilled about it, but I really can’t walk away and dump the whole tour on Harley.  She’s done a great job these last few weeks but she’s also been lucky and had no major problems.  It _is_ my job.”

              “And you miss it.”  The look on her face gave her away and Bruce smiled.  He wasn’t mad at her, only eternally irritated with her high-maintenance boss who caused her so much unnecessary stress.  Bruce knew Selina would never be content to just follow him around and get her nails done, and he knew he was going to have to deal with it.  Talia had been on location much of the time, but he’d wanted _her_ gone.  He was not looking forward to Selina’s departure. 

              “If I was around all the time, you’d probably get bored with me,” she told him, playfully.  In response, he spun her around in his arms and they both landed on the bed, giggling. 

              “You’re going to crush your suit!” Selina protested, but he started kissing her neck and she wasn’t about to keep arguing.   _Damn_ , the man knew what he was doing.  

              “Fashion statement,” he mumbled into her ear.  “I’ll go the damn thing without you, but I’m not staying past ten and you’d better be here when I get back, because I’ve got a surprise for you.”

              “Hmmm…my _favorite_ surprise?”  She wrapped a long, elegant leg around him and ran her toes down the back of his leg.  Selina could feel his cock harden and twitch even through the layers of fabric that separated them and it made her shiver in anticipation.

              Bruce laughed.  “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

              He was up to something and she couldn’t wait to find out what it was, but she decided not to overthink it when he started to kiss her again.  She had made the right decision in leaving the tour and making him listen to her, despite being terrified that he’d reject her. Selina couldn’t imagine living without him, and now she didn’t have to.  She couldn’t wait to get this nasty business with Elliott concluded so they could just enjoy their lives again. 

* * *

              Thomas Elliott slammed down the phone at his desk, not bothering to hide his annoyance.  There were too many people asking too many questions, both at the production office here and in Romania, his employees just kept disappearing into thin air, and his I.T. guys told him someone was trying pretty hard to hack into the server at the remote office.  He knew where it was coming from, of course -- Selina Kyle. Or, rather, Selina _Falcone_ with a bullshit last name.

              His sources had discovered the connection he sought; she’d been hooking up with Bruce Wayne for years.  No one seemed to know about it, but he'd gotten copies of her cell phone records and text messages and they told the whole story.  She ought to be thrilled that Talia was six feet under, but she had discovered _why_ Talia was six feet under, and now she was just as determined to shut down Elliott’s lucrative little side business.  If Selina knew, Bruce knew, and Bruce would like nothing better than to destroy him.  Not to mention that Bruce was such a holier-than-thou asshole that he’d enjoy going off on this crusade to help the children.  _Most of whom were sold to us by their own parents_ , he thought.

              He could pick off Kyle easily enough, but that would bring down the wrath of the Falcone family upon him, and that was a complication Elliott didn’t need in this town.  He pulled up his encrypted email and read the report from the hacker he’d hired to intercept Wayne’s communications.  Interesting. Looked like his old nemesis was in town this week for the Gala. 

              Perhaps the smart thing to do was to start with him.  It was already speculated that Talia Wayne’s death wasn’t an accident, but most thought it had to do with her husband’s business dealings.  If he was the next to follow, that would only shore up that theory in the minds of both the public and law enforcement, leaving Elliott free to continue his Romanian business without interference.   There was no link between Elliott's legitimate businesses and Wayne Enterprises - at least, not that anyone would successfully find.  

              This was sounding better and better by the minute.  Wayne almost _never_ had security with him; he hated to draw attention to himself and would be an easy target.  People weren’t hard to kill; hell, _he’d_ managed to kill his own abusive father at age ten.  It wasn’t rocket science.  Taking out Wayne should send Kyle whimpering back to Los Angeles with her tail between her legs, and given her boyfriend's disdain for security, it shouldn’t even be hard to do.

              Elliott smiled and got up, going to the bar in the corner of his office to pour himself a drink.  He had a couple of his guys working at Wayne Enterprises already, feeding him information.  If something happened to Bruce Wayne, the timing would be perfect for a takeover attempt, one he was sure would be successful in the chaos that was likely to follow the loss of the CEO.  This could be a win-win situation from every single angle. 

              He sipped his scotch, smiling.  All he had to do was make a phone call, and tomorrow night was going to be even more exciting than usual.  Best of all, he would be there personally to witness the aftermath. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE! I know I suck! 
> 
> Part one of the Met Gala...Everybody is there and it's the best party of the year, a dream come true for any girl. What could _possibly_ go wrong?

"I've always been famous, it's just that no one knew it yet."

                                                      ~ Lady Gaga

 

         (Edited out the part of chapter 15 that I accidentally repeated because I am overtired and forgot where I left off posting...hahaha)

* * *

              The line of identical black limos stretched around the block and down the street and they’d been crawling in traffic for a while as Harley obsessively checked Twitter to see what everybody else was wearing as the arrivals were announced.  Finally, their limo pulled up to the curb and the driver exited and opened the rear door.  Harley swung gracefully around to exit, careful to keep her knees together.  She’d seen all too many pap photos of women who accidentally flashed the crowd.  _Snapchat was bad enough,_ she thought.  _Don’t need to give everybody an eyeful of what’s under my dress!_

              Not that much was.  The dress was revealing enough that she couldn’t get away with anything more than a thong and a pair of adhesive pads that passed for a bra.  It was a weird feeling to be that naked under her clothes, but she told herself that every women here was in the same boat, if they were wearing any underwear at all.  This year’s theme had been architecturally inspired dresses, and it was fun to see what all of the different designers had come up with.  There were more traditional dresses with elaborate skylines painted on them, as well as truly avant garde designs. 

              Harley spotted Lady Gaga in a Victorian inspired column dress with a headpiece resembling an iron spike from a Gothic mansion.  The dress was backless with lace that looked like cobwebs crossing across and revealing plenty of skin.  Lady Gaga was talking to a dark-haired woman Harley didn’t recognize who wore a white and silver dress designed to mimic a Georgian column.  Behind them, a woman wore an ultramodern white dress that was all hard angles and squares with neon accents that looked like they actually lit up.  She decided her own dress was her favorite of the bunch, and silently thanked the universe for J’s excellent taste. 

              She glanced over at him.  He looked so good she could hardly believe she knew him, let alone was standing there holding his hand.  Tonight, he’d gone unusually conservative for him, in a vintage but classic YSL black tuxedo with long tails that had been customized with blue, gold and black buttons in an art deco design. 

              “I thought you’d wear something crazier,” she teased.

              He just grinned at her.  “I wanted them looking at you, not at me.”

              Like anybody _wouldn’t_ be looking at him.  _She_ couldn’t even stop looking at him, and she saw him every day.  The suit fit him perfectly, emphasizing the leanness of his body, and he moved with a grace no one in the room could hope to rival.  Even surrounded by the most beautiful people in America, he stood out.  There were strands of gold interspersed in his green hair; he must have had it done this morning. They added to the metallic quality of the color and caught the eye. It was simply impossible not to look at him, and if people weren’t staring at him, they were checking her out to see what kind of girl had finally caught him.  It was hard not to enjoy the attention and Harley could clearly see why fame was so seductive, despite all of its drawbacks. 

              She tried to hang back and step to the side as they approached the red carpet, as she’d always been trained to do as an assistant, but J was having none of it. 

              “Remember, you’re my girlfriend.  Play the part. It’s good for both of us,” he whispered in her ear as he locked her arm firmly in his and pulled her along toward the cameras.

              “They want pictures of _you_ , not me,” Harley stage-whispered.

              “Less thinking, more smiling, Harley.” 

              She obliged, putting a smile on her face and trying to keep her eyes open as the cameras flashed in her face, blinding her.  Fortunately, he was leading her along and all she had to do was smile and follow.  They reached the middle of the carpet and the decorative backdrop everybody was photographed against and stopped there for pictures.  Harley tilted one hip forward, sucked in her stomach and arched her back, smiling. She might not be famous but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about looking good in the pictures!  This was probably the best she’d _ever_ look thanks to the professional hair and makeup and the unbelievable gown, so there was no sense wasting it. Her high school friends in Nebraska were going to _die._

              _Not to mention you’re with the hottest guy in the room.  Even here_ , she thought.  When J actually made an effort – a rare occurrence – he was as handsome as any model, and he _could_ be the epitome of charm.  He’d chosen to turn it on tonight and Harley could feel the jealousy of every woman within range as she clung to his arm.  Harley couldn’t resist turning her attention away from the cameras for a moment to look up at him and admire the view. 

              He saw her looking.  “Just go along,” he whispered and then he was kissing her.  She knew it was just another pose as far as he was concerned, but that didn’t stop her body from reacting all too enthusiastically.  What should have been nothing more than an acting job with politely pursed lips swiftly melted down into making out for the cameras.  Harley couldn’t stop herself from clinging to him as he bent her backward, like some ridiculous scene from an old movie, and kissed her passionately.  She wrapped her arms around his back, feeling the hard muscles even through the suit he wore. 

              When he finally broke the kiss, she was momentarily disoriented and her knees were so weak she would have fallen on them if he hadn’t had his arm around her.    _Close your mouth, Harley, you’re catching flies,_ she scolded herself, dimly aware that she and her boss were staring at each other with unmistakable lust while fifty people took pictures of the moment.   He looked amused, too, a devilish grin painted all over his face.  _Of course_ he looked amused.   

              _Probably shouldn’t have tried the drug you’re trying so hard to stay away from,_ she thought, mentally snapping at herself to pull it together.    She swallowed hard, rearranged her face into a controlled smile and heard the Joker chuckling beside her.

              “Where did you learn to do the fake smile?  Church, when you were really bored to death?” he asked.

              Harley smirked.  “I used to go in pageants when I was a kid.”  He burst out laughing at her words but fortunately no one could hear them above the buzz of the crowd.

              “Oh _God_.  I can just see you with poofy hair, all tarted up with lipstick at some inappropriate age.”

              “It was rural Nebraska, J.  It was the thing to do.  You just don’t know what it’s like out there in the real world, Mr. Rock Star.”

              Suddenly Harley was grabbed and hugged soundly by a girl who seemed to be dressed entirely in shiny metallic foil.  When she drew back, Harley realized it was Emma Cavendish.  She hadn’t seen her since the incident in J’s dressing room and Harley turned red, remembering her behavior, but Emma seemed unfazed and thrilled to see her. 

              “Harley!  I’m so glad you guys made it. I tell J to come every year but he always flakes!” Emma gushed. 

              “He lured me here, I’m not quite sure why,” Harley explained, laughing nervously. 

              “Who cares why, at least now I’ll have someone to talk to who has an IQ higher than a fruit fly!  Come on, let's get drinks and then I'll introduce you around.  He can entertain himself.”  Emma grinned and grabbed Harley by the hand, dragging her off toward the bar.  She glanced back at J, but he waved her off with a smile and she gave up, following along, still a little amazed that Princess Caila from the hit show Knightswood Tales wanted to talk to _her._   

* * *

              Harley tried to discreetly glance back at the Joker as she sipped her drink, but Emma missed nothing.

              “Stop looking at him, I’ll _tell_ you if he talks to anybody who doesn’t have a penis,” she whispered.

              Harley laughed.  “I’m not jealous, I swear.  Remember, it’s my job to watch him and keep him out of trouble.  It’s not easy turning that off!” 

              Emma had apologized profusely for their first meeting, explaining that she wasn’t the least bit attracted to men and that the Joker was simply an old friend. Relieved that she didn’t have to see this flawless girl as competition, Harley was grateful she had offered her company. She knew she didn’t want to glue herself to J all night like some needy idiot, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t intimidated by this crowd. 

              “Nobody is going to want to talk to me,” Harley whispered to her new friend.

              “Yes they will.  You’re _so_ interesting. J _never_ dates anybody with a brain. Only models, and usually they don’t speak much English.”

              Harley laughed.  “I am a nobody though. I’m not _even_ a model.”

              “That’s why you’re interesting.  A fresh face in this crowd?  With a real job?  Never!  Now come on, I see Nicole Kidman and you guys would get along.  Did you know she was raised on a cattle ranch?  She’s actually _really_ cool and normal.” 

               Harley shook her head no and followed along, still in a daze at the entire evening.  She couldn’t help sneaking a glance at the Joker occasionally, but he was always deep in conversation with men in suits…business, always.   She was beginning to realize that his public persona of being an out-of-control rock star was so much bullshit.  He always knew what he was doing and 99% of the time he was focused on making money and expanding his empire in some way.

              _That’s who he really is,_ she thought.  _Everything else is an act._ It was yet another facet of what she was coming to realize was a very complicated – and very guarded - man _._

              _Not to mention one hell of a kisser,_ she thought.  Well, one good thing – her nerves about what might happen after this event had made her nerves about the event pale in comparison.   She resolved to stop worrying about him and try to just enjoy what was obviously the most exciting evening of her entire life.  _I’m about to meet Nicole Fucking Kidman,_ she thought.  _Holy shit!_

* * *

             He knew he should be listening more carefully to the two producers in front of him, but the Joker couldn’t keep his eyes off Harley. 

              _It’s like she comes every year,_ he thought.  He’d expected her to hang at his side, completely intimidated by the A-listers around him but she’d turned into some creature he had never met before.  Apparently she and Emma had recovered from their rocky introduction because they’d been stuck together like glue for the past hour as Emma dragged her around, introducing her to people.   And Harley looked completely in her element. The last time he was close enough to overhear, she was enthusiastically talking about horses with Kaley Cuoco as though she hung out with television stars every day of the week.

              She looked amazing, but he’d known she would. Even in a room full of beautiful women, Harley stood out because of her personality.  The girl was so excited to be here, and it showed amid the sea of fake smiles and Botox-stretched shiny faces.  She looked young and alive and absolutely perfect, and he wasn’t the only one who had noticed.  Monster T knew enough to steer clear of Harley, not wanting another incident tonight, but some of his friends kept following her around and making excuses to talk to her.  Emma was taking care of her, of course, and wouldn’t leave her alone, but the Joker was still annoyed.  Selina would _kill_ him if he got into a fight at the Met Gala but if one more douchebag put his arm around Harley for the cameras, there was going to be bloodshed. 

              He growled to himself and polished off more of his drink, already bored.  He just wanted to get Harley alone and continue whatever had started on the red carpet.  The Joker had a feeling it was going to be a _very_ interesting evening. 

* * *

              Harley was doing her best to pay attention, and knew that it _should_ hold her entire attention that Nicole wanted to talk to her, but she had lost sight of the Joker some time ago and that was making her nervous, so she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room and took the longest possible way to get there, making sure she was covering the entire room. It wasn’t like it should be hard to find someone with electric green hair, even in this crowd.  He was nowhere to be found.

              _Damn it, what was he up to?_

              And more importantly:  _Who was he up to it with?_

              Maybe she was just the cover story tonight.  It was a disturbing thought.  Harley didn’t know if she was going to be more upset if he was plotting some sort of mayhem that would be a mess for her to clean up, or if he was hooking up with some woman he wasn’t supposed to be with.  She pushed that thought to the side and continued to move through the crowd, searching.  Off duty or not, she knew Selina would expect her to have a handle on where he was and what – or who – he was doing.

              But where could he have gone?  The only place she hadn’t checked was the door leading to the kitchen.  Not that she was supposed to be back there, but Harley had already realized you could go nearly anywhere if you moved with purpose and acted like you belonged there.  The kitchen was always a popular choice for getting people in and out unnoticed; by this point in the evening, she’d probably trip over three or four sloppily drunk celebrities being quietly hustled out by their people.  She looked around to see if anybody was watching, then ducked inside, swerving to avoid colliding with a harried-looking waiter who was charging out the door with a tray full of hors d'oeuvres. 

              Harley moved past a line of workers at a counter and hesitated, trying to figure out what direction to pick.

              “He go out back.”

              She turned to see a small, older woman in a kitchen apron smiling at her.  “They go smoke.  Not supposed to in here.”  The woman pointed to a door at the far end of the room.

              “Thank you!” Harley responded, grateful for the help.  That made sense, she couldn’t imagine J without a cigarette for very long.  She walked as quickly as she could in her beautiful but ridiculous shoes and was just reaching for the door’s handle when she distinctly heard gunshots outside.  She hesitated and looked around. No one else seemed to have heard, or perhaps they were so immune to gunfire, living in Gotham, that it didn’t even get their attention.

              _Shit_.

              Harley didn’t even hesitate.  She pulled the heavy door open and slipped outside.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a super long chapter but more is coming in the next few days - long weekend off of work, woohoo!

  _Every single person on the planet has a story. Don't judge people before you truly know them._

_The truth might surprise you!_

_~ Pravinee Hurbungs_

 

              Harley gasped, taking a step back in shock.  There were two men dressed as waiters lying in the alley, not far from her, very much dead. One had a trail of blood running from the corner of his mouth. She looked up to see the Joker holding a handgun and the famous billionaire, Bruce Wayne, getting up from the ground.  They were both unhurt as far as she could see and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

              “Oh my God! What happened?” Harley asked, already thinking there was no way she knew how to handle two dead bodies and the Joker with a gun and some billionaire she'd never even met before. And she wasn’t sure if Selina knew how to handle that, either. 

              The Joker reached out a hand to Bruce, helping him up.  Bruce brushed off his tuxedo and shook his head slowly.

              “The service around here leaves something to be desired. No tip for you,” the Joker quipped to the nearest corpse. 

              Bruce looked over at him. “Thanks.  You’re a hell of a shot.”  He looked over at Harley.  “The one closest to you put a gun in my ribs and escorted me back here.  The other was waiting.”

              “Why?  _What_ is going on?” Harley demanded and, getting no response, turned on the Joker.  “What were you doing back here and where did you get a gun?” Harley asked, baffled.

              “I _always_ have a gun, cupcake.  I’ve learned my lesson about being unarmed.”  He slid it back into a holster somewhere under his jacket.

              “But how would you even get it in…” Harley trailed off.  _Because you’re the Joker, that’s how._ She sighed.

              “I’ll call the police,” Bruce offered.

              The Joker groaned dramatically.  “We’ll be here for _hours_.  Can’t we just dump them in the harbor and call it a day?” 

              “No,” Bruce and Harley said in unison.  J rolled his eyes, annoyed. 

              “Should have let you get shot,” he grumbled.    Bruce dialed the police and wandered out into the alley to talk to them.

              _I’m standing here in a formal dress and $300 shoes with two dead criminals, an A list rock star and a billionaire.  #HowISpentMySummerVacation_ She looked at the Joker.  “OK, what happened?  And don’t leave anything out. I need to know before you talk to police. You really shouldn’t be talking to anyone without an attorney present.  Should I call Nick?  Shit.  I need to call Selina.”

               The kitchen door swung open and several event security officers burst through it, weapons drawn, looking for all the world like Keystone Cops in their confusion.  Gunshots were _way_ above their pay scale.

              “Sir, are you all right?”  Several converged on the Joker as the others headed off to check on Bruce Wayne. 

              “Fine.  Mr. Wayne can tell you the whole story.  He’s calling police.  We’ll wait here,” the Joker instructed smoothly, waving off the security guard.  Once the man was gone, he put an arm around Harley’s shoulders and they both sat down on the step.  Harley’s eyes were wide but he admired that she wasn’t freaking out or crying.  

              “Sorry to ruin the evening but Kitty would _never_ forgive me if I let her pet billionaire get shot.”

              “What is going on?” Harley demanded.  “And don’t try to tell me that was some random crime. I’m not stupid.”

              The Joker laughed.  “Wouldn’t even try.”

              “Why is someone trying to kill Bruce Wayne?  Does this have anything to do with the death of his wife?”

              He looked at her and smiled.  “No, you’re definitely not stupid.”

              “Just confused because you won’t _tell_ me anything.”  Harley was frustrated and getting more annoyed by the minute that J seemed to be both amused by her anger and seemingly unfazed at having just two killed men. Was this just another weekend to him?  How much had Selina left out when telling her how crazy things could get, anyway?  “You’re not going to be very popular with whoever it is after this. If someone’s going to be shooting at you, I _need_ to know.”

              An young officer came over, conveniently interrupting Harley’s rant.   She hadn’t even heard the police arrive, but then realized they had come quietly, with no sirens, probably at Bruce’s request.   “We’ll need statements from both of you, but we can take them here. We’ve got both ends of the alley closed off so you can rest assured there won’t be any more uninvited guests.”

              “Thank you, officer,” the Joker responded, giving him a wide smile.  “Unfortunately, it’s not the first time I’ve had to deal with crazy fans.”  The officer nodded in agreement, clearly a little starstruck at who he was talking to.

              “Yeah, I bet.  We see a lot of loonies in this job but yeah they get _super_ nuts around someone like you.”  The man looked left and right to make sure none of his coworkers were around.  “Hey, I hope this is okay to ask but my family, we’re all huge fans.  Could I…could I get a picture?”

              “Of _course_ you can, and then I’ll be happy to tell you everything that happened.”

              Harley rolled her eyes, but neither of them noticed.  She would be patient for now, but she was _going_ to get answers. It wasn't like he could avoid her!

* * *

              Thomas Elliott was starting to get nervous, so much so that even his dim-witted date picked up on it, placing her hand tentatively on his arm. He shook it off.

              “Stop petting me, I’m not a dog,” he snapped.

              She looked hurt.  “You look upset.  What’s wrong?  Is there anything I can do?”

              _Not unless you have a gun,_ he thought.  He’d faintly heard two shots, but they weren’t followed by sirens or any of the drama he had expected when billionaire Bruce Wayne went down.  Could security at this event actually been slick enough to stop his hit men?  He couldn’t imagine.  They were all rent-a-cops whose skill set extended no further than keeping party crashers at bay. 

              Around him, the party continued, uninterrupted.  The only drama was some girl who looked high as a kite scrolling through her phone and crying in the corner.  

              He felt a sick feeling in his stomach.  Things had definitely not gone according to plan.

* * *

              “All right.  If we have any further questions, or need to see you, you can both be reached at the numbers you gave me?” asked the detective who had appeared just in time to miss the selfie incident, much to the young police officer’s obvious relief.  Harley thought he looked like they’d woken him up to come deal with this; his shirt was untucked, his pants were stained and he was badly in need of a shave and a haircut.  Based upon what she’d seen of the GCPD tonight, she wasn’t impressed.

              “Of course,” Bruce answered.  

              “And you’re positive you can’t think of anybody who would want to harm you?”  The detective sounded skeptical.  Bruce just shrugged his shoulders.

              “I’m someone who is in the public eye.  I’m sure there’s always some crackpot, but I’m not aware of anyone in particular.”

              He and the Joker exchanged a glance, and Harley caught it, although the detective did not.  He and his partner headed out, following the coroner who had come to retrieve the bodies.  Finally, the three of them were alone again, but before Harley could continue her own interrogation, she heard rapid foosteps and Selina came into view around the corner.  She launched herself into Bruce’s arms, ignoring J and Harley.

              “I’m okay, I’m okay, nothing happened,” Bruce assured a very agitated Selina, wrapping his arms around her. 

              “You got shot at, that isn’t nothing,” Selina pointed out.

              “You’re WELCOME!” J interjected, irritated as always that he wasn’t the center of her attention.

              She pulled back and looked over.  “Thank you.  For once I won’t lecture you about carrying where you might get caught.”

              The Joker smirked.  “I told you I could shoot.  Well, as fun as this has been, I think I’ve had enough for one evening.  Selina, you can thank me by showing up to work tomorrow.  Remember, work?  That thing you used to do?  We're at the Waldorf, in case you don't remember.”  He put his arm around Harley and steered her around, heading for the door to go back inside.  She didn’t protest. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by the four-day holiday weekend that we Americans are currently enjoying! I greatly appreciate this break from adulthood and gainful employment because I have to do important things like write fanfic and snuggle my dogs. 
> 
> Who else feels guilty when they leave and go to work because _dogs don't understand work_ and think that we just abandon them for hours and hours for no reason? Seriously. I just want to be a writer and stay-at-home-dog-mom, is that too much to ask?

              Their limo driver was still waiting for them, despite the fact that everyone else had left hours ago.  The Joker opened the door for Harley and followed her inside.  She sat down and immediately pulled off her shoes and he followed suit, discarding his jacket and loosening his tie and collar. 

              “Well, that was not how I wanted the evening to go,” he chuckled, hitting the button that put up the barrier between the driver and the rest of the car.  “You want a drink?”

              She wasn’t about to let him get her off track.  “I _want_ to know what’s going on.”

              “Nothing,” he shrugged.  “Look at the news if you don’t believe me.  Two thugs got shot by security behind the Met tonight.  Never got near any of the guests.”

              “That’s the official version?  What about the truth?”  

              He chuckled.  “Paid it off and sent it on a nice vacation.”  

              The Joker pulled out a glass and started making himself a drink from the bar in the back of the seat in front of them.  Harley just sat there, her back up against the door and her arms folded in front of her, glaring.  

              “Do you want to be the next person who gets shot at?"  He gestured at her.  "One person is already dead and Bruce could have easily been the second tonight.  You’re a lot safer not knowing anything about this,” he growled. 

              “I don’t care and I’m not scared!” Harley argued stubbornly.

              “Well, I am!” J shouted back at her.  “I don’t want anything happening to you!”

              _What did he say?_   A second later she felt the seat hit her in the back as she was pushed down.  He was on top of her, their faces just inches apart.  She could feel her heart thudding in her chest and she was sure he could feel it too. 

              Then he was kissing her again and she didn’t care about anything that had happened anymore.  It felt too good…how could anybody be this good at kissing?  She felt lightheaded and out of control and for once, she let herself give in to it.  She wrapped her arms around him and dug her fingers into the hard muscles of his back, pulling him even harder into her as their tongues met and she felt the corners of his mouth turn up even through the kiss.  Finally he drew back for a moment and gave her an evil grin. 

              “We _could_ go back to arguing if you’d prefer…”

              “J.  _Shut up_.” 

              She cut him off by pulling his head back down to hers.  _I didn’t know I had that in me,_ she thought, surprised at her own boldness, but there was no way she was stopping now.  All the logic in the world couldn’t fight how badly she wanted him.  Harley grabbed a handful of his shirt, pulling it free so that she could slide her hands under it and touch his skin.  He shifted, dragging his lips slowly from hers to the side of her neck and she threw her head back as he kissed her there.  Harley moaned softly, no longer caring if she lost her job or people talked about her or any one of the thousand negative outcomes she had imagined in her head.   He pulled her up to him for a moment and unzipped the back of the dress, pushing it down and pulling off the tiny adhesive bra with a chuckle before he bent his head to lick a circling path around one nipple. 

              She couldn’t even think anymore.  Her head turned from side to side, her hand over her mouth to keep herself quiet, dimly aware that they were in a car and there _was_ a driver on the other side of the darkly tinted glass.  She buried her other hand in his hair, her fingers moving through it.  It felt like silk; she had imagined touching it many times but the reality was even better than her fantasies.  She felt him sliding her dress down the rest of the way and wiggled her hips impatiently, trying to help him.  His hand came back up to find her thong and he paused for a minute to slide a finger down the length of it between her legs.  She was soaked and he chuckled again at his discovery.

              “You’re _sure_ you want to do this?” he teased, laughing when she rolled her eyes at him.  He slid the thong off of her and then sat up, pulling her to him.  He was still mostly dressed and she ripped at the buttons of his shirt.  He put his hands on her waist and pulled her down to his lap, against the hard bulge in his pants.  She sucked in a breath.  God, it felt _so good_.   She ground herself against it, unable to get close enough, as she fumbled with his belt and zipper in frustration, finally reaching inside of it to touch him. 

              _Holy shit, how big is this thing?_  

              She moved her hand down his length, exploring it and heard his breath catch.  Harley smiled and was just about to slide down to the floor and see how much more of a reaction she could get out of him with her mouth when he grabbed both of her wrists and flipped her back over against the seat.  She felt the tip of his cock slide between her legs and gasped as he slid it slowly back and forth, touching her everywhere but going no further.  She tried to arch herself up to meet him but he chuckled in her ear and held her down so she couldn’t move. 

              “Now, Harley, I know you’ve had a lot of second thoughts about this, and I wouldn’t want you to do anything you’re not _sure_ about…so you know, we can stop at any time and _talk_ about this some more,” he whispered, sliding back and forth in the most maddening way.  She writhed underneath him, grinding her teeth in frustration. 

              “J…please.  Please." 

              “Ask me nicely, Harley.”

              She could hardly speak, she was panting so hard.   _What the hell does he want me to say?_  “Pretty please… with sugar on top?”  Her words dissolved into a moan as he slowly slid his entire length inside of her.  He let her adjust for a moment, moving in tiny, slow circles that seemed to touch every part of her as she squirmed under him, unable to think of anything other than how good she felt. 

              When he began thrusting, she tried to wrench her hand free of his grip and clamp it over her mouth to keep from crying out, but he wouldn’t let her.  

              “I want to hear it…every noise you make, everything you feel.” 

              Hearing his words made her shiver uncontrollably in anticipation.  She gave up and moaned into his mouth as he kissed her again, and he rewarded her by picking up his pace.  Harley threw her head back as he pounded into her and felt his hot breath in her ear as he whispered to her.  She buried her face in his shoulder, bucking up against him to meet every thrust, the pleasure rapidly building inside of her.  Before she knew it, she was contracting around him, crying out into his shoulder as she came so hard she thought she might pass out.  He groaned as he followed her, driving into her so hard it left her breathless.     

              He collapsed on top of her, his lips softly moving in her hair in a way that she felt all the way down to her core. He’d finally let go of her wrists and she wrapped her arms around his back, not wanting the moment to end.    

              “Shit, I wasn’t going to do that,” he muttered after a few seconds.  “I was going to pull out my whole bag of tricks in some exotic location and really impress you, not jump you in the back of a limo.”

              Harley tried to catch her breath enough to answer.  “If I were any more impressed, I’d be _dead_.”

              He smiled.  “Of course, given how _fucking hot_ you looked tonight, the fact that we didn’t do this in a bathroom stall at the Gala means I might be developing some self-control.”

              “Glad one of us has,” Harley giggled. “Mine has disappeared and I can’t say I miss it.”

              “About time,” he growled, bending to kiss her again before he sat up and started buttoning up his shirt.  "All right, get dressed, there's only so long I can have this guy drive around the same block."

              Harley's mouth fell open. "You planned this!"

              He laughed as he pulled his pants back up.  "And you and Kitty think I'm just a loose cannon." 

              She snatched one of her shoes off the floor and bounced it off his head, but it just made him laugh harder.  

* * *

          

              Bruce and Selina sat in a booth at the back of a diner that was trying for retro, but had actually just never been updated since its glory days in the 1970’s.  They made an odd couple; him in his tuxedo from the Gala, and her in jeans and a Rolling Stones t-shirt, but that hardly even merited a glance at this odd hour.  The diner was empty except for a handful of night shift workers; taxi drivers in between fares and a booth full of exhausted-looking girls who looked like they’d just finished up at one of the strip clubs.  They had both decided an evening this stressful merited a departure from their usual healthy eating, and both had burgers, fries and chocolate shakes in front of them. 

              Selina took a long drink of her shake and smiled.  “This is so good, it would be worth being fat for.”

              Bruce grinned.  “Fortunately, I’m always available if you need help burning calories.”

              She actually giggled at that.  “Sounds much more fun than the gym, Mr. Wayne.” 

              He shook his head slowly.  “I'm sorry.  I was planning on being back from that parade of fools by ten.”

              Selina shook her head in amazement.  “You almost get shot by two thugs and you’re apologizing for ruining our evening?  I’m just glad you’re all right.”

              “I’m fine. And if they think that’s going to make me back off, they don’t know who they’re dealing with.”

              “Will you listen to me now about hiring security?”  Selina had been pushing him about the matter for a while, even before Talia’s death.  He was both too wealthy and too well known to live as he had been, going wherever he wanted alone like an average guy.  Bruce had a thing about his freedom and didn’t like being followed, even by his own staff, and of course part of the issue was that he liked being able to slip off unnoticed to see Selina whenever the mood struck him.  As nice as that was, she wasn’t willing to sacrifice his safety for it, and she was frustrated with how careless he was.  He didn’t even seem disturbed that he’d almost been killed.

              Predictably, he shrugged and tried to blow off her concerns.  “Nothing happened.”

              “Only because J had a gun!  Let’s think about that – someone you think is a drunken lunatic is the only thing that stood between you and a bullet tonight.”

              “That’s true. I’ll tell you what, I’ll compromise. You quit your job and you can come be my personal bodyguard.”  He gave her his most charming smile and she smiled back despite herself. 

              “Are you going to take this seriously?” she asked, already knowing the answer to her question.

              He shook his head.  “Not tonight, I’m not. It’s two a.m., which is at least three hours later than I’d planned.”

              Selina finished chewing her French fry, confused.  “Planned what?”

              “You’ve completely forgotten that I told you I had a surprise for you, haven’t you?” 

              She _had_ forgotten.  “I’ve had too many surprises already tonight.  I’m afraid to see what might be next.”

              “Well, if you don’t like it, I can always take it back.”  He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and took out a small black velvet box.  He held it out, balanced on his palm.  Selina stared, her entire body frozen. She was so still she forgot to breathe but was dimly aware her eyes had widened and her mouth had fallen open.  He wasn’t … was he?  She watched silently as he reached out with his other hand and popped the box open, revealing a stunning (and obscenely large) marquise cut diamond in a platinum setting. 

              _OMG…he was!  He was going to ask her to marry him!_

              She realized her mouth was hanging open and shut it but couldn’t seem to form words.  Bruce looked like he was trying to decide if he was amused or worried at her reaction.  Her chest hurt and she realized she needed to take a breath and drew one in, slowly. 

              “This is not how I had planned this but…I don’t want to wait,” he was saying.  “Life is short and I’ve wasted enough of mine.  I want to know that you’re going to be a part of every single day in my future.  Selina, will you marry me?”

              She _had_ to take a sip of her shake first as she couldn’t even talk, but she was sure he knew from the look on her face how she was going to answer.  “Yes,” she finally managed.  “I – oh my God, really?”

              He leaned over the booth to kiss her.  “I actually surprised you!”

              The diner exploded in applause and they both jumped and then laughed.  The booth full of girls was applauding, as were the old men at the counter. 

              “Yo, congratulations you guys!” one of the girls called over.

              “Thanks!” Selina called back as Bruce slipped the ring on her finger.  It was obvious no one in there knew who they were and, right now, that was the best thing in the world.  Bruce reached over and tried to snag a French fry off of her plate, but she smacked his hand.

              “Hands off the fries,” she ordered. “ _That’s_ going in the prenup!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Princessbee is probably the #1 writer of pre-Suicide Squad Joker x Harley fic (go read her stuff if you love good smut, she's fabulously talented and kinky, LOL!) and she has a note on one of her stories that I have always giggled about because it’s so damn true. And it’s so good that I’m going to repeat it here because I know some of you will giggle just as hard, ‘cause you know, _she nailed it_. She said, “Mistah J has a big cock, because that’s what I like. And frankly, my extensive experience of tall and slim men is they’re generally hung like donkeys. So, really, it’s pretty true to life.” Well, you know, she’s right, and it makes me laugh, and I know there’s something for everybody but I’m with her - that’s the fun of writing – you can conjure up exactly what you want (far more reliably than you can in real life, unfortunately!) Hope you enjoyed as I know I have made you wait with this one. And if you’re waiting for them to be romantic, well, hahahaha, that’s an even longer wait but you know it wouldn’t be true to the characters to go there this fast!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I woke up at 5 this morning and you're still getting an update. I deserve a cookie or something. ;-)
> 
> I think I'm just going to describe this chapter as the calm before the storm...so enjoy, because things are going to get unpredictable and scary for a while after this one!

_"The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty; not knowing what comes next."_   
_~ Ursula K. LeGuin_

 

              Harley woke up to the unfamiliar feeling of a heavy arm draped over her waist.  Her eyes shot open and she saw only white; she had burrowed into the sheets in her sleep. 

              Carefully, she moved enough of the sheet to peek out and forced herself to stay motionless as she reviewed the events of the previous evening.  If it wasn’t for the arm that was indisputably present, she would have thought she had the weirdest, wildest dream ever.

              _Let’s review.  Let’s be_ logical, she reminded herself.   _You went to the Met Gala.  The Joker, kissed you on the red carpet in front of everybody so that’s gonna be all over the news today and you probably have 164 message from your friends who last saw you when you were still wearing Wranglers and trying to jam everything you own into a Volvo that’s older than you are. You met, like, everybody, and 95% of them were nice to you._

That much would have been perfectly legitimate grounds to burrow back under the sheet, close her eyes, and be overwhelmed for another few hours, but it wasn’t like it had ended there.

              _And then the Joker killed two guys who were trying to kill Bruce the billionaire the richest man in America Wayne, you know the one Selina is apparently hooking up with, and then you got questioned by police, had sex with the Joker in a limo and then you came back here and…like two more times before you finally fell asleep and ohmyfuckinggod it’s morning and you have to actually talk to each other now and you have no idea what’s going to be happen._

 _Be cool, Harley,_ she told herself sternly.  _You may not make a fool of yourself, no matter what he says or does.  You’re an adult.  It says so on your driver's license._

She decided staying motionless so that he didn’t wake up and they didn’t have to talk was the best idea ever.   Harley needed at least seventeen more hours to think of what she was going to say to him.  _I need to call Ivy for advice,_ she thought.  She could hear him snoring lightly.  He was so close that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

              Harley closed her eyes again.  _If that was sex, I have no idea what I’ve been doing up to this point._ It had been…unreal.  She was used to sex being a bit of a performance; it wasn’t that hard to figure out what guys liked and if you had a boyfriend, you tried to keep them happy.  Guys wanted sex and girls wanted love and they each traded one for the other, at least that’s what her mom used to tell the girls.  And it was in Harley’s nature to be a perfectionist; she wasn’t actually offended (though she pretended to be) when it got back to her that Guy had told a couple of his football buddies that she gave the best blowjobs ever.  She was secretly flattered and proud of herself.  _Anything worth doing is worth doing well_ was another of her mother’s sayings, although she was _certain_ Mom didn’t mean it _that_ way and tried to live in denial about the fact that her girls hadn’t saved themselves for marriage. 

              Last night had been so different.  She never had a guy focus on her before like that…J was good at _everything_.  He just never let up until she was moaning and screaming his name and clutching at his back so hard she was _sure_ she’d left marks. So used to guys who couldn’t figure out what to do with their hands, who were either too rough or too gentle or just missed the mark by a mile, Harley was blown away when he’d slid two fingers inside of her and curled them, hitting a spot that reduced her to a babbling mess that could only gasp his name and beg him not to stop.  She remembered his laughter and felt herself blushing.  And that was _before_ he’d attacked her with his tongue…

              Harley could feel herself turning red and she shivered uncontrollably. _Damn it,_ she thought, feeling him move.  She’d woken him up, and she had absolutely no idea what to say to him.

              _Be cool, Harley. You can handle this.  Let him do the talking._

              “Harley?” he mumbled sleepily into her hair.  She promptly lost her nerve and pretended to still be asleep.  That was completely ineffective and only resulted in him chuckling at her a moment later. “If you were still asleep, you’d be _breathing_ ,” he pointed out. 

              _Crap._   She realized she had been holding her breath.  Steeling herself for whatever might happen, Harley flipped over and looked at him.   “Good morning,” she said, looking down and hoping her breath didn’t smell like a dumpster.   “Um…I’ll go make coffee,” she offered even more awkwardly, creeping slightly back toward the edge of the bed and trying to figure out how she was going to get out somewhat gracefully and if there was _anything_ in here she could put on.  Her dress from the Gala was in shreds, J having reasoned that since he paid for it, he could rip it off if he wanted, and that was exactly what he’d wanted to do, the second they were in the suite.  Her musings about clothing proved irrelevant; she’d hardly gotten two feet away when he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back down beside him.  He locked a hand around each of her wrists and pulled them above her head, rolling on top of her with a grin.

              “Where do you think you’re going?”

              “To make you coffee before you bite someone?  Like every other morning?” Harley suggested, but she couldn’t help but smile back.  _Damn he was hot._  

              “Coffee can be _ordered._   Do you realize I went _twenty eight_ days without sex, waiting for you to run out of excuses not to fuck me?  _Twenty eight days_.  That is a record, and not one I was trying to set.”  He bent down and whispered in her ear, his green hair falling over his forehead.  “If you think you’re paid up after last night, you can guess again, little girl. You _owe_ me and I’m keeping you here until you’ve made up for the hell you put me through.” 

              Harley looked a little alarmed at that.  He seemed to have an inhuman energy level and despite the age difference, she wasn’t at all sure she could keep up with him.  He saw the look on her face and laughed.  “Or until Kitty shows up today. But she’s not here yet, so, you’re going to stay in this bed and _do as you’re told_.”

              “Yes sir,” she whispered, realizing she was already getting wet just listening to his voice, so deep and sexy in her ear.  _I don’t know who I am anymore, but I’ll go with it,_ she thought, as his mouth crashed down upon hers again and she forgot to worry about her breath or what was on the Internet or how many messages were waiting for her or anything else in the world.

* * *

              When Harley woke up again, it was clearly late morning.  The sun was bright and her phone seemed to be flashing even more urgently with unanswered messages. J was still sleeping, and didn’t wake up when she slipped from the bed.  She looked around for something to wear, finally throwing on one of J’s white tank tops, which fit her like a dress.  Harley closed the door carefully behind her, not wanting to wake the Joker, but very intent on getting to the suite’s kitchenette and the coffeemaker.

              Then she stopped short.  Selina was sitting on the couch, her laptop open as usual, looking like she’d never left.  She was wearing a flowy sheer purple embroidered blouse, jeans and amazing purple stiletto boots with gold metal wrapped around the heels.  Her hair was down and she looked like a model.  It was easy to see what a billionaire saw in her and for the millionth time, Harley was reminded of her own lack of both height and sophistication.  The fact that she was wearing a tank top with no underwear didn’t help matters.  She felt her skin tingle as a blush crept across her cheeks. 

              “Hello, Harley,” Selina said, taking in the situation with one look and something that was almost an eye roll.

              “Selina.  You’re back.” 

              Selina raised her eyebrows.  “However did you figure it out? It must be true, you _can_ fuck your brains out,” she teased the younger woman.  Harley turned an even darker shade of red, making Selina laugh out loud.  “If that makes you blush, I don’t recommend checking out the Internet today.”

              Harley groaned and Selina handed her a cup from Starbucks.  “Here, you’ll need it.  On second thought you might want to put some of J’s vodka in it.”  Coffee in hand, Harley sat down on the couch next to Selina and leaned over to see what she was looking at online.

              JOKER HITS MET GALA WITH BARELY-LEGAL GIRLFRIEND

              The headline was splashed across the page and just under it was a photograph of the two of them kissing on the red carpet.  Harley had sort of visualized at the time that she looked like Cinderella at a ball, but the pap photo just made her look like another blonde bimbo with boobs practically spilling out of her strapless dress, and – _oh lovely_ – the Joker’s hand right on her ass.  _Shit._ She hadn’t even noticed at the time.  She groaned.

              “I look like a hooker!”

              Selina didn’t argue with her.  “It’s not the most flattering angle, to be sure, and it would have been nice if he had managed not to grope you on the red carpet, but it could be worse.  Remember, we barely avoided pictures of J with a smoking gun and two dead bodies.”

               Harley was hardly listening as she yanked the laptop across the coffee table toward her and scrolled through the article, looking more annoyed by the minute.  “Since when is 21 barely legal?”

              “Since you started sleeping with a 45 year old,” Selina pointed out.  “Go look at E! Online, you’ll feel better.  They’re much less vicious and have better photographers. You look like a princess in their pictures.”

              “But everybody I know looks at TMZ and Dlisted.  Fuck.”  Harley had reached over and grabbed the laptop and was flipping through and scanning all the stories.  “Oh, wait, this one’s cute.” 

              Selina leaned over.  “E!   I told you so.”  She had to admit, J and Harley _did_ make a stunning couple.  In the picture, they were both smiling for the camera.  He looked devastatingly handsome and a good ten years younger than he actually was, and Harley looked fresh and young in a way that wasn’t often seen on the gossip pages.  Selina tried to put her finger on it and realized that a lot of it was that Harley simply looked _happy_.  She didn’t look fake happy, she wasn’t posing.  And he didn’t look like he was posing either – he had a goofy smile on his face like the guy who’s managed to take the prettiest girl to prom and can’t believe his good fortune.

              Her phone vibrated and she answered it.

              “Selina Kyle.”  Harley could hear a male voice rambling on the other side of the phone.  “I’ll get back to you after I discuss it with her.   No, not today.  I don’t care what you’re offering.”  Another pause.  “That’s very generous.  The answer is still not today, and we’ll get back to you.  Yes, I’m representing her.” 

              Harley stared wide-eyed as Selina put the phone back down.  “What was that about?”

              “An interview request.  For you, not him.  They’re offering quite a lot but I didn’t think you wanted to deal with a reporter today and I’m not allowing you to speak to one without being properly prepped, so we’ll talk about it with J whenever he decides to wake up.”

              Harley gulped more of her coffee.  “Oh God. I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

              “That’s why you have me,” Selina told her, taking a long drink of her own coffee.  “Look, do you think anybody was smooth in the beginning?  That’s what they count on.  That you’ll stumble and say stupid things or say too much or wear something hideous in public.  But I’m not going to let that happen to you.  You aren’t talking to anybody unless we know exactly what they’re going to ask and exactly how you’re going to answer.  It’ll be like taking a test that you studied really well for.”

              “Thank you,” Harley said, incredibly grateful for the support.  “Now, can you tell me what to say to my mom?  I have 14 text messages from her and she’s _disappointed._ ”

               “You’re on your own with that one.  My mom died when I was a baby.”  Selina leaned forward and pulled her laptop back over to her and as she did so, a ring tumbled out of the v-neck of her shirt.  It had been strung on a thin silver chain around her neck. If it was a diamond, it was the biggest one Harley had ever seen! 

              “ _What_ is that?” Harley asked as Selina stuffed the ring back under her shirt.  “Are you and Bruce-?”

              Selina put her finger to her mouth.  “Shhhhh.  Don’t even tell J.  But yes.  He asked me last night.”  She smiled, and didn’t even object when Harley threw her arms around her.  Selina wasn’t normally the hugging type, but she guessed this was a special occasion, and hugged Harley back.

              “Oh my God Selina, I’m so happy for you!” Harley exclaimed. 

              “I’m happy for me too,” Selina said with a smile.

              “Harley!”  J’s voice filtered in from the other room.  “Get back in here, and bring coffee.” 

              Selina and Harley both laughed and Selina handed her another Starbucks cup from the foam carrier.  “Here.  Go feed the dragon before it burns down the hotel.  And then get back out here, we need to go over Detroit, Toronto and Chicago. Not to mention what happened last night, and by that I mean two dead hit men and the possibility that story might still get out, not whatever you spent the rest of your evening doing.”

              Harley grinned and headed off with the coffee. 

* * *

              “Is there anything else you need before I leave for the day, Mr. Wayne?” 

              Bruce looked up.  His Gotham based executive assistant, Helen, was standing in the doorway.  He looked at his phone and realized it was after seven o’clock and almost pitch black outside.

              “I’m sorry, Helen, I didn’t mean to keep you so late.  What a long day.  I’ll call a driver to take you home.  It’s not safe to ride the subway after dark.”

              Helen smiled.  “That’s very sweet of you.  I believe I’ll take you up on that.” 

              She closed the door and Bruce rested his head in his hands for a moment.  He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night…well, that wasn’t really something he could _complain_ about, but it was catching up to him today.  He’d been putting out fires all day with Wayne Enterprises, in between passing along information to a private investigator he’d just hired and put on a plane to Romania.  Selina might not be thrilled he was interfering, but while her contacts were making progress, Bruce was impatient. He couldn’t stop thinking about what was happening over there and the children being victimized.  Of course he knew it happened…knew it happened all over the world, but this was his chance to do something about it, to do something more than making a generous donation to someone else.

              He wanted to _personally_ stop them.  Just this one time, he wanted to do more than throw money at a problem, and if it meant he was putting himself at risk, so be it.  Some things mattered more than personal safety and this was indisputably one of those things. 

              Bruce heard the knob of his office door turn and assumed it was Helen checking on her ride, but a second later, Selina was charging toward his desk, looking furious.

              “Are you suicidal?  I just walked right in here. There was _no one_ downstairs and the key card for the elevator was lying on the fucking desk!”

              “Calm down,” he said, getting up and trying to give her a hug which she shook off, stepping back.  “Look, the guard probably just went to the restroom but I’ll say something to him.”

              Her green eyes were blazing as she stood there, her hands on her hips.  “The fact that the Joker is better security than your _paid security professionals_ is not a comforting thought.  Two hit men tried to kill you less than 24 hours ago!”  Selina paced toward the window, looking out as if searching for another threat.  “I’m putting my own people on you.”

              “Selina, be sensible.  I can’t have a couple of mobsters following me around.  Do you really think no one would put those pieces together?

              “We’re going to be putting _your_ pieces back together if you aren’t more careful,” she argued, staring at him.  He was so calm it was irritating.  She had come to surprise him with the news that her hacker had discovered who was behind the child porn films, and therefore no doubt behind the attempt that had been made on his life, but now she faltered.  Perhaps she shouldn’t tell him.  Perhaps she should just take care of the problem.  It wouldn’t be hard to do. 

              Selina slipped her hand inside the leather tote bag that hung from her shoulder, feeling the thick file.  She didn’t want to lie to Bruce, even if she felt she had good reasons. With a sigh, she pulled out the file and handed it to him.

              “Here.”

              Bruce took it from her and sat down at his desk, paging through the contents quickly, his eyes skimming them.  She saw his expression change when he saw the identity of the owner.  His mouth dropped open as he continued to read. 

              “Elliot,” he growled in a low voice.  “That sick bastard. I knew he was a dishonest businessman, but I never saw this coming.”

              Selina seated herself in one of the chairs across from him.  “I didn’t either.  I didn’t think for a second an American was behind this, much less one of your business rivals.  Sometimes even I forget how the ultra-rich are no better than my father’s side of the family. If you get between them and money, they have no qualms about stopping you using any means necessary.”

              Bruce was still reading.  “Jesus.  I can’t believe this.  This is a much larger operation than we thought and he’s not the only Gothamite involved in it.  There are people I know from the club profiting from this.”  His voice was thick was disgust. 

              Selina nodded. “Most of his board of directors, it seems.”  She looked out the window at the lights of Gotham as he continued to read.  The city was stunning, but she didn’t like it here.  It always felt a little dark and dangerous to her, and now that she knew what Thomas Elliott was up to, even more so.  She’d been around power hungry, money grasping people for many years but this was different.  This was an incomprehensible level of greed and evil.  

              _My family would never do anything this sick._   _I could make a phone call and he’d be dead within 24 hours._

              She shook her head imperceptibly as she considered her options.  As much as prison seemed a weak punishment for what Elliott had done, she wasn’t a killer like her father.  She wouldn’t cry any tears if Elliott’s actions caught up to him, but she couldn’t be the one to make the call. 

              _Unless he had hurt Bruce._ Then, all bets would have been off. 

              Bruce closed the file.  “We’ll work on a plan of action tomorrow.  How about dinner?”  He stood up and came around, extending his hand to her.  She took it and let him pull her to her feet.

              “I’m as tired as you are. How about room service?” she suggested.  “Also, I’m less likely to have to worry about you getting shot in my hotel room.”  Selina let him pull her into his arms and closed her eyes, still feeling relieved and grateful that last night’s assassination attempt had failed. 

              “That sounds perfect. And I think you’re right, I need a _reliable_ security guard, so I’m counting on you to handle that personally until morning.”

              “You can count on me, Mr. Wayne,” she said with a smile, her head against his broad chest. "I won't take my eyes off of you."

              “Heaven help the hit man who has to go up against you,” he laughed.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joker gets ready to play the biggest show of the tour, Selina's back on the job, Harley's got stars in her eyes and Bruce prepares to head back to California to see his son...but no one is safe until Thomas Elliott is brought to justice, and he's not the only threat out there, either!

_Dream as if you'll live forever. Live as if you'll die today._  

_~James Dean_

 

 

              Selina got to the hotel early the next morning.  The band was playing that evening, and she had to admit, she was excited to be back on the team making that happen. Her job had never been just a job to her – it was an obsession, something she got a huge charge out of doing, and knew she did well. 

              When she walked into the suite, she was shocked to see the Joker was already up and dressed. He’d even _shaved_.  He was sitting at the desk, composing something on his laptop, and he smiled amiably when he saw her. 

              “Good morning, Kitty!” he called out cheerfully.

              Selina wrinkled up her nose.  “Who are you and what have you done with the Joker?”

              “Can’t I be in a good mood?” he asked, not really looking up.  He was hyper-focused on whatever it was he was writing, which was encouraging.  Selina had been meaning to get on his case about the fact that the band needed some new material, and if he was going to get serious about writing again on his own, it would certainly save a lot of drama and nagging on her part.

              “From my experience, you can’t at 7 a.m.  But if you’re turning over a new leaf, all I can say is that I approve.” She paused, giving him the opportunity to explain, but he didn’t respond.   “Is there coffee made?  I didn’t stop.” 

              “I sent Harley on a coffee run, if you text her fast you can still place an order.”

              Selina seated herself on the loveseat and texted Harley, then turned her attention back to her boss.  “So, care to share how you knew what was going on Monday night?  And does Harley know?”

              J laughed, hummed a few bars of whatever he was writing, and said nothing.  Usually when he didn’t answer her, it was because he thought the answer was an obvious one and she should think it through and figure it out.  So she did, and a possibility occurred to her that made her feel sick to her stomach. 

              “Goddamn it…are you…are you reading my phone?”

              He snickered and starting typing again.

              _Holy shit_.  She’d been annoyed enough about the GPS tracking, but was he able to see everything on her phone?  It was her work phone to be sure, so she really shouldn’t have... _crap._

“Jesus, J.  That is not okay. That is illegal!  I could sue you for millions!”  She narrowly resisted the urge to _chuck_ something at his green head and making a mental note to hit the Verizon store that morning for a personal phone. 

              “Calm down, Kitty,” he said, finally looking up.  “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. They’re really _nice_ tits.”

              “Fuck you, J.  Fuck you so much.” 

              “Kindly remember who saved your boyfriend’s life,” he reminded her, but his tone was amused.  “If I didn’t read your messages, I wouldn’t have known you and Brucie were getting in way over your heads.  And no, Harley doesn’t know.”

              “What did you tell her the other night?”

              “I told her they were celebrity stalkers,” the Joker said, chuckling.  “And then I kept her mouth too busy to ask questions.”

              Selina rolled her eyes and made a disgusted noise.  “Spare me the details.”

              He stopped laughing and turned serious.  “You find out who’s behind it?”

              She nodded.  “Thomas Elliott.”

              The Joker groaned in disgust.  He knew the name – who didn’t?  “Fucking rich people.  So what’s the plan?”

              “I’ve got almost enough on him to turn him in,” she told him.  “E-mails, text messages, bank records. I’m getting more toward the end of the week.  I just want to make sure I can make it stick.”

              “Good.  Don’t get some idea you and Bruce are gonna do something about him yourselves. I can’t be everywhere and apparently I’m the only one who can shoot.”

              Selina rolled her eyes.  “Oh please, I’m a _great_ shot.  Remember who raised me?  I just don’t walk around with an illegal weapon like you do.”

              “Maybe you should start,” the Joker suggested.

 _You’re not usually this snarky at 7 a.m.,_ Selina thought. If he was awake, which was rare, he was just mumbling around at this hour, or swearing loudly after misjudging his trajectory and slamming his knee into a door frame.  Something was different…she stared at him, her eyes narrowing.

              “You look suspiciously like someone who didn’t drink last night.”  She saw from the sheepish look on his face that she’d hit the nail on the head. 

              “Don’t get used to it,” he muttered.  “I’m just making a point.”

              She laughed.  “Let me guess, Harley doesn’t believe you can do it.”

              “I can do anything. As I shouldn’t have to tell _you_ ,” he told her, clearly irritated, which didn’t faze her a bit.  She deserved to score some points against him after finding out he’d been reading her texts.  _Asshole_.

              “Admit it, you feel better.  For once, you don’t look like something one of my cats dragged in.”  Selina was delighted.  If Harley could sober him up, she deserved a medal.  Smart to play him against himself and his ego to get what she wanted.  

              The door to the suite clicked and opened, ending their conversation abruptly.

              “Good morning, Selina!” Harley called as she nudged the door open with her knee, carefully balancing her carton of coffee cups.  With her hair in a ponytail, in yoga pants and a pink t-shirt with no makeup on, she looked sixteen.  Adorable, but sixteen.  Selina made a mental note to ask Heather to email her Harley’s driver’s license so she could keep it handy for proof the girl was legal.  Harley handed out coffees and went to sit down in the chair next to Selina but the Joker curled his finger at her, beckoning her over.

              “I’ve got to talk to Selina about some stuff for tonight,” Harley explained, but she was already grinning like a fool. 

              The Joker snorted at that, but he turned his attention back to his laptop and his newly arrived caramel latte.

              “Actually, Harley, let’s just go down there. I want to make sure everything I asked for has been done, at least up this point. I _hate_ Madison Square Garden to begin with.  There’s too much to watch, it’s huge and I don’t trust the security to be good enough.  They’ve hired some real morons before.”  She stood up, grabbing her coffee and her bag. 

              Harley got up and joined her, thinking about Monday night.  “Yeah, if we had to wait for security at the Gala…”

              “You’re _welcome_!” J called after the two women again as they headed for the door.  Sometimes being famous sucked.  If he were some regular Joe, he’d be all over the news for his heroic save of billionaire Bruce Wayne, but they’d hushed the whole thing up.  The Gala didn’t want the bad publicity. The lame story about crazed fans hadn’t even made the news; they’d greased all the right palms. He snorted to himself.  _Bullshit_.  He needed to do something against this Elliott piece of shit that he could take the credit for.  

* * *

              Harley followed Selina dutifully around the backstage area at the Garden, trying her best to ask good question that displayed everything she’d learned while the other woman was away.  That wasn’t easy, because her mind was elsewhere and reeling it back in seemed impossible.  Sometimes it was impossible to believe only two months had passed. She felt like she’d been out on the road for _years_ and she couldn’t believe she was still only 21. 

              They’d been running around dealing with one crisis after another since they’d arrived.  Equipment damaged in transit – for which everyone responsible was pointing the finger at the other guy.  As Selina had pointed out, it didn't fucking matter - it just needed to get fixed, now.  Then there were sound issues at the north end that were _still_ being worked on, just hours before show time, and to make matters worse, some girl had already been arrested after literally shipping herself to the venue in a box. 

              “Why are people so crazy?”  Harley asked, reading through the police report that Selina had handed her, trying not to trip over cabling as she tried to walk and read at the same time. 

              “Don’t underestimate that one,” Selina warned her, not even slowing down.  “She’s a long term stalker. Her name is Rosie and she _truly believes_ she and J are meant to be together.  The problem is, she doesn’t look crazy. She’s a beautiful girl, an ex-model, so it’s easy for her to talk security into letting her pass.”

              Suddenly Harley remembered a story.  “Is she the one who stabbed him?”

              Selina nodded.  “No, that was _another_ one.  Rosie’s been around for years. She knows where he lives and we’ve caught her on the property.  She was in jail for a while on a drug charge, so we didn’t have to worry about her, but she got out a week ago.  She disguises herself, but I could pick her out at 100 yards.”

              “Shit.  Do you think she’d try to hurt him?”

              “I think she’d try to hurt _you,_ ” Selina told her.  “I’m not trying to scare you, but you need to be aware of her and what she looks like.  Rosie’s rarely had a clear adversary before.  It’s hard to focus your anger when the object of your affections has a different girl every week.”

“What makes you think I’ll be any different?  I don’t think the fact that we’ve lasted 48 hours is impressive.”  She had decided she absolutely had to keep playing it cool.  After all, she knew what she was getting into with him, right?  He seemed insanely into her, but _insane_ was the operative word.  He was probably like that with everybody at first.  Only a fool would walk around thinking she was _special_ and this was going to be _different,_ and Harley refused to look like a fool.  Especially in front of Selina, who had warned her not to go there. 

              Selina looked at her and raised an eyebrow.  “You are different. I don’t know why.”  She saw the look on Harley’s face and hurried to clarify her comment.  “Don’t take that the wrong way.  You’re great, but I’ve been around him a long time and he is…extremely guarded.   People don’t pick up on it because he knows how to put on whatever act serves his purposes.  He can be great with people, charming with women.  But it’s like it makes him _tired_ to do it.  Then he withdraws and just avoids everything, drinks too much and sleeps all day.”

              Harley nodded, thinking of their conversation on the balcony early on.  “I think he’s under a lot of pressure that he doesn’t talk about.”

              They had stopped at the left side entrance to the stage and Selina was not happy about what she saw.  “Hey,” she snapped at a passing worker, “Where’s Mario?”

              “He on break,” the man responded, looking scared. 

              “He’s on break?” Selina repeated, as if she couldn’t quite believe her ears.  “So you’re telling me that the sound that was supposed to be fixed on Monday isn’t fixed today, on _Wednesday_ , plus everywhere I walk, I see another safety hazard…and Mario is on break?”

              The man shrugged and scratched his head.  “I don’t know, lady, I just do what Mario tell me.”

              “Great!  Then you must have his number…so he can tell you what to do, right?” 

              “Uh…yeah I got his number.”

              “Well, call him and tell him Selina Kyle is waiting for him and I’d like to know why this area looks like a lawsuit waiting to happen.  I’ll wait.”  She folded her arms and smiled.  The man pulled out his phone and scurried off to call.  “Fucking ridiculous,” grumbled Selina.  “For what this costs, you’d think they’d have their shit together.”

              Harley rolled her eyes, commiserating.  “One thing I learned while you were gone – no one has their shit together.  You have to double check everything.  It’s so frustrating!”

              “Welcome to my world.  Not what you thought it would be, is it?”

              “No.  On the plus side, I’m getting better at standing up to people,” Harley observed.

              “I noticed,” Selina said with a smile that told Harley her response had nothing to do with work.

              Just then, Mario returned, looking sheepish.  Selina read him the riot act and he promised to get everything fixed well before she returned for sound check later in the afternoon.  While Selina ranted at him, Harley discreetly checked her phone but was disappointed to find nothing.   Then she proceeded to internally berate herself for feeling disappointed.  _You’ve only been apart an hour.  Do you really want him to be some psycho who texts you nonstop?_

_Yes!  Yes, I do._

_OMG.  Shut up._

              “Harley!” 

              She jumped, realizing she had completely zoned out.  “What?  Sorry.”

              “I just asked you if you’d checked with their catering about the food in the green room for tonight.  Come on, we need to go in there and see if it’s actually clean.”  Harley hurried to catch up to Selina, who had already started off in that direction.

              “Um, yeah, I have an email here from Dana at 8:15 this morning confirming everything. It looks correct.”

              “Good.”  Selina stopped suddenly.  “To finish our earlier conversation - I don’t know how this is going to end up.  I don’t know that he’s capable of an actual relationship. I’ve never seen it. I just don’t want you to be too disappointed.” 

              Harley nodded.  “Hey, worst case scenario, I’ll have a great story to tell my grandchildren, when I’m back in Nebraska married to the assistant manager of the Tractor Supply, right?”  She smiled to cover up how afraid she was, had always been, of exactly that outcome despite her efforts.

              Selina surprised her by laughing out loud.  “Harley.  You’re all over the gossip columns.  I’ve had eight interview requests for you in the past 24 hours.  You’re not going to wind up back in Nebraska.  The worst case scenario is still that you’ll be famous in your own right after this, and then you can decide what you want to do with that.  Now, we need to check out the green room and then go because I just got a text from Oz and he’s lost.”

              “He’s _lost_?” 

              “He went home with some girl last night and now he doesn’t know where he is. I told him to go outside and look at the street signs and text me back, but we’re going to go pick him up ourselves because in the mood he’s in, he’s going to tell the Uber driver all about his failing marriage.”

              “Crap, let’s go,” agreed Harley, thrilled that this hadn’t happened when she was alone.  “Wait, how are we going to get past the paps?”

              “I’m already on it,” Selina grinned, waving her phone. “Just borrowed a 1996 Hyundai and we’re going out the back.”

* * *

              It was a perfect Southern California day, the kind that makes people move there from all over the country and jam up the freeways.  The temperature was 76 degrees, the sun was shining, the waves were crashing against the shore and seagulls circled everywhere, hunting food left behind by all the visitors to the beach. 

              On the patio of one of the largest mansions, Damian Wayne paced around as he talked on his cell phone.  He was dressed in a polo shirt and jeans, looking very much like a miniature version of his father, who was on the other end.  Jenna, his nanny, was where she _always_ was when his dad was out of town, floating on a pad in the pool and taking pictures of herself with her phone.  Damian had no idea why anybody would want that many pictures of themselves, but, well, he wasn’t a girl and he didn’t really know how they thought.  Jenna seemed to be going through a lot of trouble, stretching her hand up and angling it left and right as she made funny faces at the camera.  Damian thought she looked like a fish, and hoped she’d drop her phone in the pool again – that had been _hilarious_.   She had freaked out!

              “How did baseball go last night?” his dad was asking him on the phone.

              “It was awesome. We whupped their butts!”

              Bruce laughed.  “Don’t say that in front of Coach Drake, he’ll get on your case about sportsmanship.  But I bet you did.”

              “I hit a home run, and Skylar struck out Caden Bradley and he’s like their best player.”  Skylar was Damian’s best friend, who lived a few houses down the beach with his movie producer parents.  

              “I’m sorry I missed it.  I was going to call you but I fell asleep.  It’s three hours later here and your dad is getting to be an old man,” Bruce apologized. 

              “No way, Dad. You’re the coolest.  Skylar says you’re way cooler than his dad and you have better taste in cars.”

              Bruce laughed out loud at that one.  “OK, kiddo, I’m going to be home on Thursday, so until then will you promise me that you’ll work on your fractions?  Get Jenna to help you.”

              _That ain’t gonna happen,_ thought Damian, but he told his dad he would, and they said their goodbyes.  As he turned around, he noticed there were a bunch of box trucks parked just outside their gate.  He wandered down and pressed his face between the wrought iron bars, spotting a man leaning against one of the trucks.  Damian knew the guy was in the movie business because he had all kinds of stuff hanging from his belt…rolls of tape and cords.  He wore cargo shorts and a Jack Daniels t-shirt and had a walkie-talkie clipped to his belt as well. 

              “Hey, what’cha filming?”  Damian asked. 

              The man looked over.  “Horror movie.”

              “Cool!” exclaimed Damian.  Horror movies were his favorite, the gorier the better. “Anybody famous in it?”

              That got him a nod.  “Yeah, Sage Barker is the star.  He ought to be here tomorrow or the next day if you want to meet him.”

              “Really?”  Damian was excited – Sage Barker was one of his _favorite_ actors, and he was filming on their street?  How lucky was that?

              “Yup. My name is Chip, just watch for me and I’ll introduce ya.”  He extended his hand through the fence and Damien shook it.

              Before Damian could decide which of his dozens of questions about Sage Barker to ask first, he heard Jenna’s voice.  You couldn’t miss it.  She was sort of screechy, like an angry bird whose nest had been disturbed.

              “Damian!  Where are you?”

              From the sound of it, she hadn’t bothered to get out of the pool, but she must have looked away from her phone long enough to notice she didn’t see him.

              “Coming!” he called out.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Chip!” 

              He ran back toward the pool and the man smiled before pulling out his own phone. 

* * *

              It was the biggest show of the entire tour and it felt like it. Harley and Selina had managed to retrieve Ozzie and get him to take a nap and sober up before sound check, and then they’d barely had 15 minutes to grab a bite to eat and change into their clothes for the evening before they had to greet the reporter from the Gotham Gazette and carefully orchestrate an interview with the Joker that was just long enough to make the paper happy without being long enough to bore the subject of the interview. When he got bored, he started telling them crazy stories just to amuse himself.  One time he’d told this girl in Alabama that he’d actually _killed_ someone who pissed him off and buried him in Shreveport and the next thing you know, Selina had to deal with two police detectives after the freaked-out reporter went running to the cops.

              “I didn’t bury anybody in Louisiana,” the Joker admitted.  “But I was thinking about it if she asked me another dumb ass question about which artists inspired me.”

              Selina remembered looking at him skeptically, and she thought back to that moment now as she watched the interview.  _He probably has killed someone before,_ she thought.  His reaction to taking out two of Elliott’s men had been nonexistent, and that just wasn’t normal.  Even for someone like him, who was allergic to normal.  But so far, so good tonight. He was putting on his Prince Charming act, and the reporter was completely enchanted.  Still – she wasn’t about to leave until the reporter was safely out of the venue, although if the cameraman didn’t stop asking for her number, she’d be the one getting in trouble for a violent outburst.  Selina fervently wished she could wear the ring that hung around her neck, and tell people, but it was just too soon.  Right now, the only ones who knew were Harley and that text-message-reading _asshole_ being interviewed.

              She checked her watch.  Time to cut this off. 

              “Thanks so much for coming by, Aislynn, but I’m afraid it’s time for him to start getting ready for the show,” Selina said, stepping between them.  The young reporter looked extremely disappointed, but she thanked the Joker and got up.  Selina helped her gather up her things.   “I’ll walk you out. This place can be super confusing if you haven’t been here before.”

              “How did you know?” asked the girl, her eyes wide.  She sort of wished she’d been sent to interview Selina; she found her utterly fascinating, the sort of confident, independent woman she hoped she would one day be.

              Selina just smiled and opened the door, making Harley, who had just been about to walk through it, stumble and nearly fall. 

              “Shit!” she exclaimed before realizing someone else was there.  “Oops, sorry.”

              Aislynn’s eyes grew even wider.  “You’re Harley Quinn!  I’m from the Gotham Gazette, I just interviewed the Joker.  Could I possibly ask you a couple of questions?”  She knew she was gushing but she couldn't stop herself.  Harley was even prettier in person than in her pictures, she thought.  They looked around the same age, but Aislynn was definitely the Selma Blair character, whereas Harley was Elle Woods all the way…blonde and super cute, wearing a grey t shirt that looked like it had been slashed with a knife in an artsy, high-fashion way and a short, tiered red miniskirt.  Her gorgeous, wavy blonde hair was in a high ponytail, but you could still see how long it was when it was free.  _I would kill to be her,_ Aislynn thought.  

              Harley was oblivious to the girl’s thoughts, but couldn’t figure out a way to get out of being interviewed with no warning without seeming rude.  Fortunately, Selina saved her.  “She can’t now. She’s got a job to do, but I will make sure she calls you for a short phone interview in the morning. How does that sound?”

              “That would be perfect,” Harley added, trying not to look too relieved.  “I’d be happy to talk to you then.”

              Aislynn was thrilled.  “Awesome!  I’ll watch my phone for your call!”

              “J, your makeup artist will be here in 5 minutes,” Selina called over her shoulder as she escorted the reporter out and closed the door behind them.  Before Harley knew what was happening, the Joker had gotten up and closed the distance between them, pushing her against the door and kissing her.  She responded enthusiastically, unable to resist the urge to press herself against his lean form.  He moved his lips down to her neck and kissed her and she giggled, but grabbed his wrist and stopped him when she felt his hand go under her short skirt. 

              “What?” he growled, sounding genuinely irritated.

              “Didn’t you hear Selina?  Your makeup artist is going to be here in five minutes. Well, more like four, by now.”

              “Then you’d better stop slowing me down or she’s going to see a show she’ll never forget.”

              “J, seriously!”  Harley tried to squirm free, but she was soundly trapped between the Joker and the door, and neither would budge.  He just laughed and unzipped her jeans, ignoring the hand on his wrist.  She couldn’t do a thing to stop him, and any one of a dozen people could walk in at any minute.  He got his hand inside her panties despite her protests and rolled her clit between two fingers.  Despite herself, she gasped, closing her eyes in pleasure.

              “Most people are such boring, pedestrian sons of bitches,” he whispered in her ear.  “Never do anything exciting, never dream of anything exciting, scared _shitless_ of anything exciting.  Maybe someone will walk in.  Are you _sure_ you care?”  His other hand went up under her shirt and moved swiftly over her breasts, making her shiver with pleasure.  “Probably only have _three_ minutes now…so are you going to be boring or are you going to be my girl?”

              Her half-closed eyes flew open at that.  So much of her life, she’d been the one who didn’t take the dare, the responsible one.  He was right.  Harleen was one of those boring people, but Harley was taking over.  She grabbed the back of his head with one hand and brought his lips back to hers while the other went for his zipper.  He laughed against her mouth in absolute delight as he kissed her, and was inside of her within seconds as she moaned, throwing her head back against the wall.  He ground against her, and she bit his neck to keep from screaming.  _God, he’s big._ It felt like he was touching everything inside her and she couldn’t get enough of it.

              “I hear footsteps, Harley.  Someone’s coming.”  He whispered, his breath tickling her ear, before he returned to kissing her.

              _Could_ she hear footsteps?  She didn’t know, everything outside was muted noise.  How long had it been?  The door was thumping as he thrust her against it; they had to be able to hear that outside in the hallway.  What if someone did walk in?   Selina had to be coming back, too.  And why, why, why was this so fucking hot?  She had both hands in his hair, grabbing and pulling it, trying to force his mouth closer, his tongue even deeper inside her.  His mouth was so rough it hurt but she loved it. He pulled his head to the side despite her grip.

              “Cum for me, Harley,” he hissed into her ear and she did, clenching her teeth together to muffle the sounds she made as she convulsed in pleasure, her hands clutching his muscular back.  She heard him groan as he reached his own climax, biting her neck so hard that she knew there would be a mark.  The voices outside grew louder and he spun her around and away from the door, setting her on her feet and pulling her skirt back down in one effortless motion.  A second later, there was a knock at the door.

              “Come on in!” he called cheerfully, giving Harley a wink.  He was already back in the armchair, his forehead only _slightly_ shiny.  Harley was still standing where he’d put her, pressing her thighs together for fear that what felt like a _gallon_ of their mixed fluids was about to run down her leg.  She reached up quickly and pulled her ponytail tight again and smoothed down the sides of her hair, wondering how red her face was. 

              The makeup artist entered, a curvy, dark haired girl with flawless milky white skin and the longest eyelashes Harley had ever seen.  She was lugging two suitcases.  “Hey, J, it’s good to see you again. What have you been up to?”  she asked.

               “Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that,” he answered, winking at Harley.  The girl saw the gesture and looked to her right to see Harley.   “Oh, hi!  I’m Elania.  You must be Harley!”  She extended her hand.

              _Crap, where has my hand been, what might be on it and what does it smell like?_ Harley thought.  She decided to extend her left hand instead, and the girl awkwardly shook it. 

              “Sorry, I hurt my wrist and can’t shake with that one,” Harley improvised, listening to the Joker chuckle softly from behind Elania.  “Hey, I’ll leave you two alone to work.  I’ve got to go check in with the light techs anyway.”

              “That’s my girl,” J told Elania.  “Always has her…nose to the grindstone. Just gave me an amazing…last minute pep talk before the show.” 

              Harley beat a hasty retreat toward the bathroom, glad that Elania had immediately gotten busy unpacking her tools and wasn’t watching her awkward crab-walk of shame.  He was _terrible_ but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love it.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The girl who mailed herself to the venue in a box and the famous person who went home with someone and then had to be told to go outside and look at the street signs to identify where they were are both true stories. You won't find the second online because I'm _fairly_ sure it has never leaked. ;-)


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot strikes when no one expects him, and it's up to Selina to prevent a tragedy. 
> 
> (Sorry this took so long! Real life jobs (x2) kicking my butt!)

_Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure._

_Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing._

_~ Helen Keller_  
  


              Selina and Harley were in their usual spot just off stage, watching the show.  The venue was absolutely packed and the crowd was an enthusiastic one.  While the energy was contagious, it also made for a lot to watch and supervise.  Selina had never been able to convince the Joker to stay out of the crowd; he loved jumping into the midst of it all and crowd-surfing and she could just tell from the mischievous look in his eyes when he’d gone on stage that she’d better be ready for anything tonight. 

              She glanced over at Harley, who was just smiling sweetly up at the stage with a look of utter worship on her face as the reflections from the lights played over it.  That look had been there from the start, but now that they were a _thing_ , it was even worse.  Harley was a pretty tough, no-nonsense girl about anything else…Selina had been beyond impressed with the way she handled crises and problems, but when J was on stage, she looked like a 15 year old girl in 1967 who had just seen a Beatle in the flesh.  J, of course, ate up every second of that.  Selina didn’t know why she found it so irritating, except that her boss didn’t need any help inflating his ego, and giving it a bump might result in even more misbehavior that she’d have to deal with.  Not to mention that she was still concerned that things would end badly between them and she’d lose the best assistant she’d ever had. 

              Her phone vibrated, distracting her from her musings about J and Harley.

              **Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?**

              She smiled at the text from Bruce.  He had been so cute, asking her lots of questions about what kind of wedding she’d like and assuring her that she could have anything her heart desired.  They’d discussed a date a year in the future, and not going public with their relationship for another six months.  As much as they both looked forward to living together, they agreed that it would take some time for Damien to adjust to the idea and now was most definitely too soon. 

              **You know I’ll love anywhere if I’m with you.  Have any ideas?** she wrote back, her eyes constantly flitting back to the stage and watching the crowd. 

              **Maybe Bali?  Somewhere you won’t need to wear many clothes…Maybe I’ll rent an island so you don’t have to wear _any_.**

Selina giggled under her breath and Harley looked over, smiling knowingly.  “I can’t imagine what you two are talking about,” she whispered.  Her friend shrugged and grinned, her face clearly revealing her naughty thoughts. 

              **Stop making me want to fuck you when you’re not here. Torturing your fiancée isn’t nice** , she typed back.  

**Oh, I seem to recall there are certain forms of torture you enjoy** … he shot back.

              Just then, the Joker ( _with predictably bad timing_ , Selina thought) launched himself into the crowd, which erupted in hysterical screaming. 

              **BRB** Selina texted and stood up, moving closer to the stage to watch what went down and jerking her chin at Harley to follow her.  She looked around the venue, making eye contact with each of the security staff in turn, the stern look on her face sending a clear message to pay attention.   The guys here were pretty good; she watched as one relocated a girl who had grabbed a handful of J’s shirt and refused to let go.  The guard clamped a hand on her wrist, forcing her to release her grip and then swung her around, depositing her unharmed but protesting a good ten feet away from the object of her obsession, where she fell to the floor like a ragdoll, clearly overwhelmed by the fact that _she had touched his shirt_. 

              Harley saw it go down too, and rolled her eyes at Selina.

              “See, this is why I don’t like him doing that,” Selina hissed back, into Harley’s ear so that she could hear her above the screaming.  Harley leaned over to respond, but the venue went suddenly dark.

              _What?  That’s not right-_ Selina thought, quickly reviewing the pattern of the light show in her head.  Even if it had been scheduled, no light tech was idiot enough to go dark with the lead singer out in the crowd somewhere.  She lit up her phone, meaning to call Brandon and see what the fuck was going on, when there was a tremendous boom and the entire venue shook.  She couldn’t see a thing but she could feel the rush of air and debris as it hit – and it had come from the stage.

              “Harley!” she yelled and a second later she felt Harley’s hand on her arm, reaching for her in the darkness.  The roar of the crowd had escalated but the screams had gone from happy and excited to horrified and panicking. 

              “Selina! What was that?  Where’s J?”  Harley sounded equally panicked but Selina couldn’t answer her.  She could hear the crowd pushing each other, yelling, shoving, a stampede quickly forming that could kill more people than the initial explosion, and she had to stop that first and worry about individuals later.  She called Brandon’s cell and he thankfully answered.

              “Brandon!  Get some lights up, any lights.  What happened?”

              “I lost everything!” the voice came through the phone.  “I’m trying to get backup up now but I can’t see a goddamn thing.  Are you guys ok?”

              “Harley and I are together, we’re fine, do the best you can, get something up. I don’t care if you light a torch.”  She hung up and dialed the security supervisor and told him to get everybody in the building on crowd control.  Harley had been smart enough to pull up a flashlight app on her phone and she was trying to hold it together, despite being more terrified than she had ever been.  Pieces of debris were still falling as she and Selina rushed back toward the stage stairs. 

              “Wait!” Selina yelled, yanking Harley back by her arm.  There was a huge crater where the front part of the stage had been, directly in front of the stairs.  “Come on, we have to go around.” 

              They raced around to the backstage area so that they could reach the stage.  By now Selina had lit up her own phone so they could see where they were going.  Security had already gotten to the stage and they were with Ozzie and Eddie, both of whom were injured but conscious. 

              “Did you call 911?” Selina asked the nearest guard. 

              He nodded. “They’re on their way.  These guys have got burns and they might have internal injuries but their vitals are okay for now, I checked.”

              Selina debated grabbing a microphone and trying to quiet the crowd, but she couldn’t see the extent of the damage and electrocuting herself would not help matters.  She could dimly hear announcements to stay calm, but she knew no one was listening.  Instead, she let out the loudest whistle she could summon up, hoping the piercing noise would get the crowd’s attention.

              “Hey!  This is Selina Kyle, could you all shut the FUCK up and listen to me?”

              Selina’s words were heard by enough people that the crowd started to quiet. 

              “PLEASE STAY WHERE YOU ARE.  If they were going to blow up more than this stage, they already would have.  Security is going to help you, in the meantime, if you want to know details about the Joker you’ve _never_ heard anywhere else…come over here and listen to me.” 

              Selina’s voice had turned seductive and Harley could see as the backup lighting kicked in that her words had caused quite a bit of the crowd to pause from their mad rush to the exits.  Some of the bravest fans started to make their way back to the stage, seeing an opportunity to get closer and hear what Selina had to say.  Even Harley was shaken out of her panic by Selina’s stage presence; she was that compelling.  She pulled out her phone and tried calling J, hoping he’d had his phone on him, but there was no answer.  Harley _wanted_ to panic but she knew she had to stay professional and set a good example or so many lives would be at risk.  She looked around, noting that Selina was right – the only thing that had been damaged was the front of the stage.

              _Exactly where J would have been if he hadn’t jumped into the crowd.  But where was he?_

              “I’m going to tell you all of his deepest, darkest secrets,” Selina announced.  “You know what he does when he’s hanging out between shows?”

              The fans couldn’t decide whether they wanted to panic or hear more, but with the lights on and more and more uniformed officers showing up, the venue seemed safer, so they started shouting out nervous answers to Selina’s question. 

              “You’re alllllll wrong,” Selina said, drawing out the second word with a big smile and tossing back her hair.  “He plays Candy Crush Saga on his phone!”

              The crowd lit up with whoops and applause, and now even those who had clamored for the doors were starting to relax.  Harley could see that the crowd had become much more orderly and were allowing security to escort them out calmly – if they weren’t winding their way back toward the stage to see what they were missing. 

              “Here, I’ll tell you a good one,” Selina told them, in a voice that made clear she was imparting extremely top secret information.  “Guess what club the Joker was a part of in high school?”

              A little redheaded mega-fan knew the answer to that one.   “He was on the debate team and they won state finals!” she cried out. 

              _That, I believe,_ thought Harley as she swiped up, obsessively refreshing her phone and hoping for a message.  She was worried beyond belief but she knew she had to do her job.

              “Very good!  Write down your e-mail address, because I know a girl who’s getting a _private_ meet and greet!”  The redhead started jumping up and down and hugging her friends.  Harley heard the noise of the paramedics arriving and coming through the backstage area, so she rushed to meet them.

              “Hey, guys, I’m the assistant tour manager.  We’ve got two injured musicians out here and a couple of dancers.  Selina’s doing a really good job of keeping the crowd calm so if you follow me and you’re quiet, I think we can take everybody out without anyone getting in our way.”

              “Good plan,” agreed the lead paramedic, a strong looking older woman.  “No more explosions?”

              “Just the one. I don’t think we’re in danger.  I think they were targeting the Joker,” Harley told her as they headed to the stage, where she let the helpful security guard from earlier fill them in on the guys’ condition as they were strapped into stretchers.  She was relieved to see that everyone on stage was conscious and able to talk to the paramedics and answer their questions coherently. 

_This could have been a lot worse…and I still don’t know where J is._

              The crowd was so busy watching Selina’s impromptu Q and A session that they barely noticed the medical personnel coming on stage, although Harley did notice some taking pictures and videos, but it simply couldn’t be helped at the moment.  Her own phone lit up with a call but it was her mom.  She swiped to ignore it with a text.

 **I’m OK talk later too busy** , she wrote back. 

              “When he was filming Blind Ambition with Emma Cavendish last year, he played a prank on her.  Anybody know what it was?” Selina was asking.  The crowd yelled out all kinds of answers.  Harley smiled at the story – it was a funny one.  _Where was J???_ She knew he hadn’t been near the explosion but what if he’d been trampled by the ground?  She knew there were injured people out there…she could see the paramedics flowing into the back of the venue. 

              “That’s right!”  Selina cried out, pointing at a young man with a green mohawk who seemed to be dressed entirely in leather and chains.  “Chickens.  She came back after a scene and there were a dozen chickens of all shapes and sizes running around her dressing room.  And do you know the _best_ part?  She kept them all!  She built a state of the art coop for them on her estate in Bel Air and they’re all named after A list actors.  In fact, it’s my understanding that Angelina recently had chicks, which I guess is what happens when you name your chicken Angelina.” 

              Everybody laughed, truly amazing given the circumstances, thought Harley.  She’d seen people work a room before, but what Selina had just done blew her away!  “All right, I think these gentlemen behind you are ready to help you all to the doors.  Watch our social media, I promise I’ll update about everything as soon as I know.  Have a much better rest of your evening!” 

              Selina turned and took Harley by the arm.  “I saw him.  He’s way in the back by the doors.”  The younger girl let out an audible sigh of relief, but after a moment, she turned back to Selina, anger in her eyes. 

              “Are you going to tell me what is going on now?  You and J and Bruce all clearly know who’s behind this and don’t tell me crazy fans, I wasn’t dropped on my head as a child!”  Harley hissed. 

              Selina shook her head.  “J didn’t want you to know, it’s…complicated.”

              “I have a 4.0, I'm sure I can keep up.  Who is trying to kill them?”  She waited while Selina texted their driver, and then they both walked out the back door of the venue and stood waiting on a loading dock. At least there, they’d have some privacy, away from the chaos out front.  It was cold out – April in Gotham bore little resemblance to anybody’s idea of spring - and Harley shivered but she wasn’t about to be deterred from getting to the truth by some unpleasant weather conditions.

              “OK Selina.  Cough it up. You know I need to know.”

              “It’s a man named Thomas Elliot.”

              Harley was startled.  “The famous one?  The guy who owns medical corporations?  Isn’t he as rich as Bruce?”

              “Just about.  He also owns film production companies. Talia was working for one of the legitimate ones when she stumbled upon evidence of the other ones.”

              “What other ones?”  Harley furrowed her brow, a little confused.  What would make a film production company not legitimate? 

              Selina sighed.  “Porn films.  Child porn films.”  She watched as Harley’s eyes went wide and horrified.  “We all know now, so we’re all targets.”

              “So he killed Talia?  And he was behind the attack at the Gala?” Harley asked, trying to keep herself from stuttering as she shivered.  Selina seemed unbothered, but then again, she was wearing a leather jacket whereas Harley wore nothing more than a trendy, sheer, shredded t-shirt. 

              “Yes.  And I’m sure he was behind what happened tonight.”

              “Has he gone after you, too?”

              Selina shook her head.  “No, but remember who I am.  He knows not to start that war.”

              “Do the police know?”  Harley asked, but realized she already knew the answer.  “Oh, I guess with his kind of money, you can buy a lot of cooperation.”

              Their limo pulled up.  “We’ll talk back at the hotel,” Selina told her.  “Nothing in front of the driver, please.”  They approached as the driver opened the door for them, and slid inside.  Harley was thrilled to find the heat was on inside the car.  She looked at herself in the mirror that ran along the front of the back seats.  She and Selina were covered in dust and dirt, and she shook her head, trying to shake some of it off, but that just sent a cloud of dust down toward her face and made her cough.    

              “Go around front,” Selina instructed. “I’ll call security and have them find J and get him to the car.” 

              She did just that and by the time they pulled around, it was only a second before the door flew open and the Joker sailed into the car, practically landing on Harley’s lap. He put an arm around her and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

              “Where were you?  I was scared to death!”

              “Not on the stage that blew up,” he smirked.  “And then I was helping security keep people calm to exit.  They listen to me a lot better than they do the police.  By the way, Selina, I heard what you did – good thinking.”

              Selina smiled. “You didn’t hire me because I was stupid.”

              “How are Ozzie and Eddie?”  he asked.

              “We’re on our way to the hospital to find out, but I don’t think anything life threatening.  We got very lucky.”  Harley hit the button that closed the window between the driver and the passengers and then smiled sweetly at the Joker.  “Selina told me about Elliot.  Next time someone is likely to try to kill you, tell me. It’s not that I care about _you_ , but I might be standing next to you the next time someone tries to blow your stubborn, secretive ass up.” 

              For once, the Joker actually looked guilty.  “I fucked up. I was trying to keep you safe.  I should have told you…sorry.”

              Harley and Selina exchanged a look.  _Did he just apologize?_ The moment was fleeting before the Joker reverted to his normal sarcastic self and snapped at Selina.

              “Hey, call your pet billionaire. I’ve got _fourteen_ text messages from him.”

              Harley snuggled into the Joker’s side, exhausted and grateful they’d all survived the evening, but they were going to have to have a very serious talk about this Elliot guy.  Someone who could blow up the stage at Madison Square Garden was a much bigger adversary than some crazy fan.  Harley was worried that Bruce and J between them had more ego than common sense thinking they could handle this themselves.  There _had_ to be another way, a safer way.  She was thinking about it when she dozed off, her head against his chest leaving sooty smudges against his white t-shirt. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> J, Harley, Selina and the group return to L.A. for some much needed R & R while Elliott gets way too close to home for Bruce's comfort.
> 
> 300 Kudos! Thank you for your support! :-)

_“Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.”_

_~ Nora Ephron_

 

              “I’ve never been so tired,” Selina admitted to Harley as they settled themselves comfortably in Bruce Wayne’s private jet and prepared for take off.  As soon as Bruce heard what happened at the concert, he sent a limo to collect them all and take them to Teterboro, where his pilot met them to whisk them away.  Both Selina and Harley were grateful; the phones had been ringing off the hook all night and neither of them felt up to dealing with the press.  Five hours in a private jet heading back to California had never sounded better.

              Harley nodded.  “Same. It’s the adrenaline, but now we’re crashing.  Learned about how that works in psychology class in high school.”

              “Hmmm, sounds interesting,” the Joker said.  He had immediately flopped on the couch and laid his head in Harley’s lap and she thought he had already dozed off until he spoke.  “So what’s your analysis of me?”

              “I said I took a class.  I’d need my Ph.D to even come close to figuring you out.”  Her fingers twined playfully in his hair and he smiled.

              “Has anyone heard if there were more injuries in the crowd last night?” Eddie asked.  He and Ozzie had, fortunately, sustained only mild burns and contusions and after a visit to Gotham General, had been released to fly home with the rest. 

              Selina scrolled through her phone.  “It looks pretty good.  Nothing life threatening, some went to the hospital but more for stress and hysteria than physical damage.  We were very lucky.”

              “If you hadn’t jumped into the crowd, you would have been right where the explosion went off,” Harley said softly, finally giving voice to the thought that had been plaguing her since the attack.

              “Never worry about me, baby, I’ve got more lives than a cat," the Joker replied.  "Ask Selina to tell you about the time I went paragliding with Ewan McGregor.”

              Selina let out a snort.  “Harley, you don’t even want to know. He does seem to have good luck. Why, I don’t know.”

              “My karma from being so fucking amazing,” the Joker mumbled, half asleep.  A second later he was not only out cold, but snoring softly in Harley’s lap.  Selina rolled her eyes at his response but said nothing. 

              “We should all try to get some rest,” Harley pointed out.  “I’m sure the second we’re spotted back in Los Angeles, we won’t get a moment of peace.”

              Selina nodded.  “Everything that we’ve discussed tonight stays between us.  As far as any of you know, it was a random attack – perhaps a crazy fan.  We’re not going to make a big deal out of it. I already released a statement that we aren’t cancelling any shows.  We’re back in Chicago on the 8th, but we have a break until then.  Lie low and screen your calls – no one talks to a reporter except me.”  She had filled in Ozzie and Eddie on the situation with Elliott – she’d _had_ to, they had a right to know, but Selina certainly didn’t trust Ozzie not to leak that information inadvertently. Eddie, well, Eddie was pretty close-mouthed and used to being mysterious, it was his thing, so she wasn’t as worried about him.  They only had three more shows after this and they just needed to hold it together for the fans – while, you know, trying to bring down an international child pornography ring.  _No big deal._   

              She sighed.  It would be so easy to just have Elliott taken out.  On that thought, she leaned back and shut her eyes.  She was almost asleep when the phone rang, startling her.  She opened her eyes and reached for it, noting that everybody else in the plane was asleep.

              “Hello?” 

              “Selina.  Are you okay?”  Bruce’s deep baritone voice came through the phone, sounding worried.  She didn’t understand why – the crisis was over.

              “I’m fine, we’re all fine.  Three more hours and we’ll be there.”

              “Good. I’m sending a limo to get you.  Come directly here, and don't make any stops.  I’ll explain when you arrive.”

              “Is something wrong?”

              “We’ll talk when you get here,” Bruce said, not really answering her.  “I love you.”

              “I love you too.  Get some rest!” she admonished but he said nothing more and hung up the phone.  Selina sighed.  _What now?_ She didn’t even want to think about it.  She simply curled up on the couch like a cat and pulled a throw over herself, snuggling into it and closing her eyes. Whatever it was, it would wait, and she’d be more useful with a little sleep. 

* * *

                Bruce stood on the deck of his California home with the two LAPD officers, but not so far that he couldn’t see Damien, who was sitting on the couch inside playing video games with Juanita, the gardener’s wife who acted as his back-up nanny.  Juanita wasn’t much good at video games, but Damien enjoyed sharing his vast knowledge with her, and she did a good job of pretending to be interested.

              On his part, Bruce was trying not to visibly shake.  Staring at his kid helped, and he barely heard what the officers were saying. 

              “They went to a lot of trouble to look like they belonged here. Film trucks, equipment, all the neighbors saw them…it looked like a legitimate shoot.  They did their research. They knew your kid wanted to meet Sage Barker.  You sure this couldn’t be someone you know?”  Detective Torres couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was something Mr. Wayne wasn’t sharing with him. 

              “My kid, like every other kid his age, overshares on Instagram.  His movie preferences are no secret.”   Bruce snapped.

              It had just been dumb luck that his long-time gardener had been trimming the hedges and heard Chip persuading Damien to unlock the gate and come outside so that he could watch filming and meet his idol.  Jenna, the now _ex_ -nanny, hadn’t even realized Damien was in the front yard, but Felipe had gone out there to trim the hedges and couldn’t be seen behind them as he overheard the entire conversation.  Damien had been about to give in to the temptation of meeting Sage, and forget everything Bruce had ever drilled into his head about safety, when Felipe appeared, revved up electric hedge clippers in hand, and suggested that Chip might want to find another place to stand if he didn’t want a free haircut.  He’d even gotten Chip’s license plate, but of course the van was a rental and Chip and his cohorts were long gone before police arrived.   It didn't matter - Bruce knew who they worked for, even if the LAPD would never figure it out.

              He had come home from the office to a pouting son, a hysterical nanny, and several LAPD officers questioning his staff and the neighbors.  He’d given his kid a thirty second to-be-continued lecture, fired Jenna, and written Felipe a six-figure bonus check before speaking with the officers, a duty that was making his head explode.  He just wanted them to go away so that he could call Selina, who should be on the ground by now.  Every time he thought about what could have happened if Felipe hadn’t been paying attention, he saw red.  He’d happily make the call to Selina’s family right now and wipe Thomas Elliott off the face of earth. 

              “Mr. Wayne?” asked the other officer, a younger woman who looked tough despite being pretty and petite.  “I hate to bring this up, but we know your wife was killed in a suspicious accident recently, and that it’s still being investigated.  Could the two incidents be related?”

              Bruce sighed.  Of course, he got a smart one to deal with.  “I suppose anything is possible. Right now, I’d like to be with my son.  Are we done here?”

              The two officers nodded.  “We’ll call if we have more questions.  Your security company has stepped up service on this property?”

              “Of course.  Thank you, officers.” 

              Bruce showed them to the door and then headed back into the living room, dialing Selina as he walked.  Her phone rang, but she didn’t answer.  They’d have to have landed by now.  He dialed the plane’s pilot, who answered immediately.

              “Hannah.  When did you land?”

              “Oh, Hi Mr. Wayne!  We got in right on time at 3:30.”

              He looked at the clock above his mantel.  It was 4:15.  He should have heard from Selina by now, and he felt a sick feeling of dread start to form in the pit of his stomach.

              “Did you happen to see the driver pick them up?”  he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

              “Yeah, although I think the car service got their signals crossed because they got picked up, but then another limo showed up looking for them.”  Hannah sounded confused but not too concerned.

              Bruce was silent for a moment, processing but not wanting to believe what he was hearing.  Feeling like he was on auto-pilot, he thanked Hannah and hung up the phone, quickly dialing another number.

              “Mark?  Hey, I need you to look at your surveillance video from Hangar B about 45 minutes ago.  I had guests on my private plane but I think they got into the wrong car.  I need the license plate of the car they did get into…immediately.”  He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, not wanting anyone to give Elliott a heads up…he had to get the jump on him… _had_ to. 

              He headed into the living room.  “Juanita, could you stay late tonight?  I need to take care of some business, but I might be a while.”

              “Of course, Mr. Wayne, it is no problem,” she answered. “I was just about to get up and make us some dinner, and I’ll fix you a plate you can warm up when you do get home.”

              “You’re the best,” he said sincerely.  “Hey Damien?”

              Damien looked up, his expression and the tone of his voice making it clear he was convinced he was still in trouble.  “Yes, Dad?”

              “I love you.”

              His boy grinned and relaxed.  “Love you too Dad.  Bring me a chocolate shake on your way home?”

              “If I’m not too late, I will for sure.”   Bruce grabbed his car keys, headed to the door and then hesitate.  He went back into the bedroom and pulled the gun safe out from under his bed, spinning the dials until the combination was correct and it clicked open.  He turned to make sure no one had followed him into the room before loading the gun and slipping it inside his jacket pocket.   If Elliott or his men had touched one hair on Selina’s head…they were about to discover a side of Bruce Wayne that _almost_ no one knew existed.

              _Hang on, Selina,_ he thought.  _I will find you._

* * *

 

              Harley woke up feeling like she was freezing to death.  The floor was moving and it jarred her aching head with every motion.  Her mouth felt like cotton, like she had the world’s worst hangover without any of the fun first, and the place stunk like a garage with the pervasive scent of old motor oil, dust, stale smoke and dirt. 

              The last thing she remembered was being in the limo and then finding it hard to breathe and coughing… She pushed herself up on one elbow and tried to speak.

              “Hello?” she croaked out.  God, she was was colder than she could ever remember being.  _I guess the people who say living in California thins your blood aren’t kidding,_ she thought. 

              “Harley, I’m here.”  Selina’s voice came out of the darkness.  “I woke up a little while ago.  It’s just the two of us in here and our phones are gone.”

              Harley couldn’t see anything in the pitch dark.  She knew they were in a railroad car because of the movement and noises, but she had no idea where they were going.

              “Where’s J?  Where are the guys?” she asked, trying not to panic.

              “I don’t know.  I was just as unconscious as you were.  They piped some kind of gas into the back of the car…we all passed out around the same time.  There’s one door in here and I think it’s locked from the outside.”

              “Should we try to open it?”

              “At the speed we’re going?  We’d kill ourselves.  We’re not going to climb out and land on a passing horse ridden by the Lone Ranger,” Selina snapped back.

              Harley sighed.  “I was just trying to help.  I don’t want to just sit here going who the fuck knows where, probably to our death or our new careers in Elliott’s movies.”

              Selina laughed bitterly.  “We’re too old for Elliott’s tastes. It’s dead for sure.”

              “Thank you, Mary Sunshine,” Harley shot back and they both laughed.  _Gallows humor,_ she thought.  Were they really going to die?  She wasn’t even 22 yet…Could Elliott have killed J?  No, no, no, she couldn’t go there. She had to think of a plan.  _If you don’t like where you are, change it,_ her mom had always said.  Well, she _definitely_ didn’t like where she was.

              Harley started to crawl around the floor of the car, sifting through the filth with her bare hands.  It was a good thing she was a farm girl and wasn't squeamish.  She listened carefully as she searched, hoping she wasn't going to encounter any furry friends, and shuddered involuntarily at the thought.

              “I already looked for potential weapons. There’s nothing in here but junk,” Selina told her, but Harley kept searching.

              “Ha!” she cried out after a few minutes.  “I found a great big nail.”

              “And you’re going to do what with it?” Selina asked, sounding tired.

              “Put someone’s eye out with it.  Like you do with car keys.  Didn’t you ever take a self-defense class?”

              Selina sniffed.  “No, when your last name is Falcone, you really don’t have to worry about protection.  What are you doing?”  She could hear a weird rubbing noise coming from Harley’s direction.

              “You’ll see.”

              A moment later, the inside of the car was illuminated by a small fire, and Selina felt a welcome rush of warm air against her skin.  Harley was crunching up old newspapers and adding to the fire.

              “How did you _do_ that?”  Selina scooted closer to the warmth. 

              Harley grinned.  “Old battery and a Brillo pad.  My dad is big into hiking and camping so he taught us all wilderness survival tricks.”  She rubbed her hands gratefully near the flames, and then turned to hunt around for more things that would burn.  “We can’t burn it for long in an enclosed area but at least we can thaw our hands and feet out a bit.”

              “I knew hiring someone from the Midwest was going to pay off.  That’s what I told J when I got your resume.”  They sat quietly for a few minutes, warming themselves, before Selina spoke again.

              “Bruce has to know we’re missing by now.  I think he knew something was up…he called me and told me to make sure we got right into the car.  But Elliott was one step ahead.”

              “Elliott doesn’t just want us though. The only way he can keep his operation quiet is if he gets Bruce too, and in order to do that he’s going to have to use you as bait,” Harley concluded logically.   “That might buy us enough time to find a way to-“ She squeaked in surprise as the train braked suddenly and she and Selina were both thrown forward, rolling across the floor. 

              The fire went out and they were plunged into total darkness once more. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry I know I've been so late with updates. But hey! Here's one at least! :-)
> 
> OK, in case you forgot, we left off after Elliott had kidnapped everyone but Bruce as they arrived back in Los Angeles after the horrifying events on the East coast. In this chapter, the Joker uses his usual skills - being obnoxious and mind games - to get what he wants. But will he escape in time to save Selina and Harley, who might not be in the specific danger _he_ thinks they are in?

Fear is only as deep as the mind allows.

                            ~ Japanese proverb

 

              Bruce drove south, trying to remember to stay within 30 mph of the speed limit so that he’d be less likely to be pulled over and delayed, but it was difficult.   Thank God for modern technology; he could clearly see the red dot that represented Selina traveling south. They had already crossed the border into Mexico.  He was traveling faster when they were, at least when he could; the urge to simply _ram_ his way through traffic when he encountered it was intense and he’d thought about taking the helicopter but there was no way to stealthily arrive anywhere in that. 

              He was having a hard time staying focused on the task at hand.  His mind was stuck on a logical loop that reminded him that Selina was only in danger because of him. It was Talia who had discovered Elliott’s operation and if he had not involved Selina in his mess of a life, she’d be taking a nice break from the tour right now, probably sunning herself by the pool at the mansion with a glass of wine.  Everything that had happened was because of him, because he selfishly involved her in his life without even knowing what was going on in it himself.  If something happened to her, he would never, ever forgive himself.

Bruce hit the brakes and swore as a wandering Prius meandered into the fast line at a top speed of 62 mph.  He watched as brake lights came on up ahead, but he saw with relief that they were due to the fact he was finally approaching the border.  He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his passport. 

              _Hang in there, Selina.  I’m coming for you._

* * *

              The Joker woke up, surprisingly comfortable until he realized he couldn’t move.  He was bound from head to toe in enough rope, unable to move his arms or legs.  His head ached and he could still smell the smoke from the explosion at the concert. 

              He forced himself to keep his breathing quiet, pretending to still be asleep while he evaluated.  He was on a train; he could hear the sound of it traveling down the tracks.  He was lying on something soft; a sleeper car?  No one was talking but he sensed that he wasn’t alone; the thought was confirmed when he heard the rustle of newspaper pages being turned.  He could tell it was light behind his closed eyes, and opened them a slit to see who with him.

              The first thing he saw was Ozzie and Eddie were tied up as thoroughly as he was, and hadn’t woken up yet.  They were not in a typical train sleeper car, but instead one that had been outfitted as nicely as any tour bus.  He didn’t see Harley or Selina and a cold chill ran down his spine, making him shiver involuntarily.

              His other traveling companion noticed the movement immediately.  Thomas Elliott sat in a comfortable chair, a folded newspaper in his hands and a glass of wine on the table next to him. Elliott put his paper back into his lap and smiled. 

              “Finally awake.  I thought you’d miss out on your Mexican vacation.”  His voice was rich with sarcasm. 

              _If he’s telling me where we’re headed, I doubt he expects me to survive the trip,_ the Joker thought.  “Tommy!  What a surprise.  Yesterday you try to blow me up, today we’re into bondage?  This is the weirdest relationship I’ve ever been in, and for me, that’s saying something.”

              Elliott sneered at him, clearly annoyed at his failure to show an appropriate level of fear and respect.   “Yes, I suppose there isn’t much you haven’t done, is there?  Yet you judge me and my clients, many of whom are closer to you than you know.”

              “Everything I’ve been _fortunate enough-”_ he paused to laugh, knowing it would irritate Elliott all the more “-to do has been with beautiful women that not only consented, but were fighting each other for the privilege.  Of course, you wouldn’t know what that’s like.  How pathetic do you have to be to force yourselves on children?”

              His adversary bristled, as the Joker knew he would.  “Looking at your circumstances, at this very moment, do you think it might have been wise to mind your own…fucking…business?”  His voice had gone to an angry hiss at the end.   

              The Joker laughed.  “I’m not known for my wisdom.  But you don’t seem to be the sharpest tool in the shed, either.  Do you really think no one will notice I’m missing?  I’m _kind_ of a big deal.”   He was dying to ask about Harley but sensed it was safer for her for Elliott to think he wasn’t that involved.  Let him think Harley was just the bimbo of the week.  He flexed his hands against the ropes but they were tight and gave him no room to move. 

              Elliott took a drink of his wine before answering.  “Oh, they’ll notice. But they won’t even be surprised when they hear that you and your band were kidnapped and killed by your angry South American drug connections. It’ll be the big news story for a few days and then you’ll be forgotten.  Just a sad casualty of your life-long and well documented substance abuse.”

              “Why not just leave me in an alley with a needle in my arm, then?  No need for a road trip, _especially_ with gas prices so high right now.”

              Elliott gave him a long look and then smiled.  “You’ve cost me a lot of money and several good men.  You don’t really think you’re going to die quickly, do you?”  He expected that sobering news would wipe the sarcastic smirk off the Joker’s face, but if anything, he grinned wider.

              “You’re not the first person who’s ever tried to kill me.  I hope you do a better job than my mother did!” 

              It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t a story the public knew, either.  At one point the fighting between his parents had escalated and his mother had held a gun on him, trying to pry information out of him about his father and what his father had been up to. 

> _"Stop lying to me!  He didn't take you to the movies.  What movie did you see? Huh?"_
> 
> _His mother stood before him, hands on her hips, the wild look in her eyes telling him she had been drinking.  Again._
> 
> _"Back to the Future," Jack replied, calm as always, which infuriated his mother.  He'd seen the movie with his friend Sam earlier that week, so if she quizzed him, he'd pass._
> 
> _"Really.  Then explain why you both smelled like a whorehouse when you came home? I'm not stupid!"_
> 
> _Jack smirked.  "I'm pretty sure you are."_
> 
> _His mother went even redder in the face than she already was.  Jack wasn't even surprised when her hand whipped out and she pistol-whipped him across the face.  She'd hit him before, it wasn't news.  But this time, he heard the blast as the gun discharged...and the thump against the floor behind him that he knew was a body falling before he even turned around to see his father, on the floor with a bullet wound in his head, a pool of blood spreading out around him like a flooding lake._
> 
> _Jack left that evening and never returned, staying with an older friend who had his own apartment in Houston.  His father’s death was ruled a tragic accident._

This time, Elliott didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer so the Joker closed his eyes and feigned sleep, thinking about how he would get out of this one.  He’d survived his mother – he’d survive this jackass.  He just hoped Harley and Selina were okay. 

* * *

              Harley and Selina crouched in a corner of the boxcar, shivering, waiting for _something_ to happen.  The train had come to an abrupt stop and they couldn’t hear anything.  No voices, no sounds outside.  It seemed like they were in the middle of nowhere.

              “Where do you think we are?” whispered Harley.

              “About three hours from Los Angeles, but I don’t know in which direction,” Selina responded.  “I’m thinking it’s about time to try that door.” 

              Harley wasn’t sure; at least in the car they seemed to be safe. But escaping would be better.  “Okay. I sure wish we had something to pry it with.” 

              They stood up and tried to feel their way around the door to identify how it worked.  Harley heard a metallic creak as Selina tried unsuccessfully to budge the door.  “It’s on a track, but it doesn’t move at all when you push on it.  It’s got to be locked on the outside.”

              “Wouldn’t there be some sort of safety latch inside, in case, I don’t know, someone from the railroad gets locked in?” Harley asked.

              Selina sighed in frustration.  “Maybe on a newer one, but from the feel of all this rust, this thing’s a lot older than either of us.”

              “So what do we do, wait?”

              “I’m thinking you try your fire trick again.  If this thing starts smoking, it may catch somebody’s attention. We just have to be sure we don’t asphyxiate ourselves in the process.”

              “That would be bad,” Harley agreed.

              “Hey,” Selina put her hand on Harley’s arm in the dark.  “Thanks for keeping your head together in all this.  I know this is not what you signed on for, but neither one of us is stupid. If we get out of this car, whatever I do, just go along with it.  Men are men and I grew up around criminals.”

              “Got it.”  After a second, Harley laughed.

              “What?”

              “Remember when I told you that I could handle whatever this job threw at me and I wouldn’t cry and run home?”

              “I do.  But I wouldn’t blame you if you ran home now.”  Selina heard noises in the dark and a second later a flame sprung to life, lighting up Harley’s face.  She was _smiling._

              “No way.  I say we get out of here and kick some dirtbag ass.”  Harley held the flaming bit of paper up to the crack between the door and the frame. 

* * *

 

              The Joker had almost dozed off again when the ring of Elliott’s phone brought him fully awake again.  He looked around.  Both Ozzie and Eddie had woken up but, gagged, had been unable to say anything.  He smiled at them and then concentrated on listening to Elliott, who had retreated to the far end of the railcar to take the call.

              “What do you mean, it just stopped?”   Elliott was hissing into the phone.  “You idiot!  That’s a set up.  You’re sitting ducks.  Take the women and get the hell out of there.”

              _Take the women._ They were alive!  The Joker felt a wave of relief wash over him. He looked at his bandmates; they’d heard the remark as well and looked equally comforted by the news.  

              “No.  I didn’t say that.  Are you stupid?  Are you just a complete fucking idiot?”  Elliot opened a door and passed into another car, leaving his hostages alone, but a second later, an armed guard replaced him.  This one was overweight with a beard; he was the textbook definition of Not a Badass. He was well-armed, but that wasn’t everything. 

              “Hey there Charlie!” the Joker called out cheerfully.

              “My name’s not Charlie,” the guard responded, sounding grumpy and tired.  _Perfect._

              “I _am_ sorry. We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m the Joker, you might have heard some of my songs?”

              The guard settled himself in the chair Elliot had vacated, the springs creaking in protest at the extra weight.  “Shut up or I’ll shoot you.”

              The Joker giggled.  “You will not. Your boss already told me he wants me to die a slow, painful death while he watches. He’d be pissed as fuck at you if you shot me, and something tells me he’s already made that point to you.”

              “I gotta keep you alive, I can do that after I rip out your vocal cords. You won’t be singin’ after that,” the guard mumbled. 

              “Now, now. I’m just concerned that you’re not acting in your own best interests.  What is your name?  Eddie?  You look like an Eddie.”

              “George. For fuck’s sake my name is George.  What do I have to do to get you to stop talking?”  Satisfied that his boss wasn’t coming back anytime soon…well, given that he could actually hear the screaming on the phone in the next car…he pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his social media feeds.

              “George, do you know what your boss is screaming about right now?  Because I do.”  The Joker grinned.  George raised his eyes from his phone and looked at him suspiciously.

              “How would you know anything. We knocked your ass out in Los Angeles. You don’t know shit.”

              “Well, that’s not _quite_ true,” the Joker sing-songed.  “This isn’t his first call of the evening.  He was talking to Jake before – you know Jake?”

              George shook his head, confused.

              “Jake works for Riviera.”

              The Joker said it as though George should know who Riviera was, betting that Elliott considered his guards too stupid to let into the loop about anything – an assumption that was proving accurate.  George had stopped looking at his phone and was transfixed.

              “Riviera the drug boss?”  His voice had taken on a hushed tone as he realized the depth of just how much shit he might be in.

              “The one and only!  Sounds like he’s not too happy with your boss conducting international commerce without giving him a heads up or a cut.”

              _Shit.  That sounded right,_ George thought. And it’d be like Elliott to forget when you were down here – you were on their turf. You asked permission. You paid what you were told to pay.  Even he knew that. 

              “Now, if I were you, you know what _I’d_ do?  I’d let the three of us go, and I’d go with us.  Because you know who guys like Riviera don’t shoot?  Famous motherfuckers like us.”

              George stared at him, fear written plainly on his face. 

              “Shit, man, help us out and I’ll give you a half-million dollar reward when we get back to Los Angeles.  You can go buy a beach house in Belize and a cute little senorita to go with it with that kind of money.  Elliott would never find you, if he’s alive, which I don’t think he’s gonna be by this time tomorrow.”

              The guard looked at the door.  He got up slowly, hesitated, looked back at the Joker, and then locked the door.

              _Mission accomplished,_ the Joker thought.

* * *

              The old boxcar rattled as the sliding door was roughly jerked open.  It was almost dawn and there was light enough to see by.  Three armed guards entered the car and grabbed Selina and Harley by their wrists, yanking them out.  The bone-chilling cold bit into them; if the boxcar had been cold, the outdoors was even worse.  They looked around quickly but there was nothing; the train had stopped on a stretch of track in the middle of the desert and the only thing to be seen was a black stretch limousine that idled, sending clouds of exhaust fumes into the night from its tailpipe, and a cargo van beside it.  Harley noticed a dark shape on the ground near the caboose and, after staring at it a bit, realized it was a dead body.  She decided her lack of reaction to seeing a dead body was more disturbing than the presence of a dead body.   _Just another day at work,_ she thought and had to press her lips together to keep a giggle from escaping.

              “Hey!  I’m sure your boss would like you to be a little more careful with his hostages,” Selina protested.  She exchanged a look with Harley, one that acknowledged they were outnumbered at the moment and should play along. 

              “You don’t know my boss, _gringa_ ,” muttered the tallest of the bunch, a dark haired man with a thick mustache.

              “I’m sure Mr. Elliott has special plans for us,” warned Selina.  “We’re not ordinary hostages.”

              “I don’t work for _him_ ,” he responded disparagingly.  “Come on.  We’re going to see _my_ boss now.  And you’ll do what he says. Whatever he says.”

              Harley looked at Selina in alarm.  If he didn’t work for Elliott, what was going on here?  The two women were pushed into a waiting limousine and were relieved to find the guards did not follow.  At least it was warm and comfortable inside, which was hard not to enjoy after spending all night in the boxcar.  The doors were immediately locked behind them, imprisoning them inside. 

              “I don’t understand,” Harley said, worried.  “If it’s not Elliot that has us, who then?”

              Selina shook her head.  “I don’t know but I have a feeling we’re going to be meeting him in short order.”   She removed a shoe and tapped on the glass with the heel.  “Bulletproof. We’re not getting out of this car until they take us out.” 

              “I have a really bad feeling about this,” Harley mumbled. 

              Selina said nothing, just folded her hands in her lap as her eyes searched the car for any clue as to the owner.  Elliot didn’t scare her, but it was obvious they were in Mexico, and that was a country that had a lot of things to be scared of.   All they could do is wait to find out who had them now. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope everybody can remember where we left off, I admit I had to go back and read my own story because it's been so long! Sorrrrrrrry!
> 
> In this chapter, a lucky twist of fate benefits Selina and Harley, while nothing goes according to plan for the guys in the band, but the Joker is nothing if not adaptable. So much for that week off between concert dates!
> 
> Apologies to any native Spanish speakers. I used Google Translate for the Spanish and I might have murdered it.

_“Courage is the most important of all the virtues because without courage, you can't practice any other virtue consistently.”_

_~Maya Angelou_

              It was pitch black traveling through the Mexican desert.  Bruce realized from his GPS tracker that Selina wasn’t on a train anymore. It was obvious from the twists and turns of the route that she’d been transferred to a car.  The dot had stopped moving for some time and he’d panicked, sure that either the ring was no longer on her body or that she had been dumped somewhere, dead.  But then it started up again, and was traveling on roads, not a straight track.  He tried not to look at it too much, keeping in mind he was no good to Selina if he ran off the narrow road in the dark.  He’d already skidded through the gravel on the shoulder once, fighting the wheel as the car fishtailed before he got it back under control.  The road was rough to begin with; even the luxury car he drove couldn’t mask how poorly maintained it was, and he had been awake far too long as he drove through the night following that dot.  He needed to stay calm and pay attention - especially at the speed he was driving.

              Bruce prayed they would see the hostage value in holding Selina Kyle, and now he was angry at himself yet again for not telling the world they were engaged.  If he had, Selina would have a card to play with greedy guards who were unlikely to be loyal to Elliott if someone shook a bigger potential wad of cash at them.  But no – he had kept things quiet and now Selina had no bargaining chip, in a country where young, beautiful women disappeared regularly and were never found.  She had her ring, but that alone might not be enough to use as a bribe, and if she had to give it up, or they found it on her, that meant he’d lose her location.  He had decided not to mention he’d chipped the ring, after hearing how angry she was at the Joker for his spying on her in much the same manner.  Maybe he was a control freak, but he had good reason after the last few weeks.

              He glanced down again quickly. He was only 24 miles away from her now, and moving much faster than the car she was in.  He would be there soon. 

              _Just let them be alive,_ he prayed.  _That’s all I want.  I’ll take it from there._

* * *

              Harley and Selina couldn’t see a thing through the limousine’s tinted windows, but they realized immediately when it pulled into a garage and down a ramp, and they heard the sound of an overhead door closing behind them.

              “We’re underground,” Selina said quietly. 

              “Not my first choice,” Harley answered.  They were both sitting rigidly, their hands folded in their laps. 

              “They’re men,” Selina reminded her.  “Just remember that, and we do whatever we have to do to survive.”

              Harley nodded.  She knew she and Selina needed to find the weak link, and if there was one thing Harley had learned in her months on the road, there was _always_ a weak link. Someone who wasn’t paying attention, someone who flat out fucked up.  And no matter how carefully you hired – that person always existed.

              The car locks clicked and the door by Selina swung open.  She was surprised to see a man in an elegant suit extending a hand to help her out of the car, but she kept her composure and let him pull her to her feet. 

              “Senorita.  I am sorry for the unpleasant trip.  I can assure you I had nothing to do with it.”  The man was tall and good looking, spoke excellent English, and couldn’t be mistaken for anything but wealthy.  Selina checked out the surroundings in the periphery of her vision.  Numerous guards, as she’d expected – but also numerous cars.  She was wondering how the door worked and if she could get up to a high enough speed to go through it as Harley joined her and she responded.

              “Seńor.  You are not what we were expecting.  I suspect you know who we are, may I ask your name?”  Selina gave him her prettiest smile.  He smiled in return, though with an edge that told her he wasn’t falling for her act even though he appreciated it. 

              “Miguel Riviera.  Come, I’m sure you would both like to freshen up and get some rest, and then we will talk about what brings you to my country.”

              _Being drugged and thrown on a fucking train,_ Harley thought but she decided to take her cues from Selina and break out her most charming smile.  “If we’re trespassing, we can call an Uber and get out of your hair,”  she suggested.

              Riviera laughed.  He liked them both already – most women who were brought to him were sobbing, incoherent messes, and it wasn’t attractive.  Of course, this was business, but that didn’t mean it had to be completely _unpleasant_ business.  

              They appeared to be walking straight into a solid wall when Riviera raised his hand to a decorative tile and a panel of the wall slid into the one beside it.  Immediately two guards came forward from inside, making a beeline for Harley and Selina, but Riviera stopped them, holding up a hand.

              “ _Ellos no est_ _án armados_.”  He turned to Selina.  “You would not be here if you had another option.  I am sure you are an excellent shot.”

              Selina tilted her head slightly to the side and felt her lips turn up in a genuine smile.  He _did_ know who she was, and that didn’t mean Selina Kyle, the Joker’s manager. “I would be happy to demonstrate my skills if you wish to see,” she told him, making him laugh again.   He ushered both women down the hallway into what was a stunning underground home, beautifully and expensively decorated, with stunning sculptures, tapestries on the walls, and antique furniture. 

              Harley couldn’t help staring, intensely aware of her level of personal filth in the luxurious surroundings.   She also reminded herself not to think she was out of the woods yet – you could get shot just as easily in a mansion as in an alley, they were at least 700 miles from the U.S. and nobody was going to find them here.  Selina seemed awfully relaxed, though. 

              A maid in an old fashioned uniform, starched and pressed to perfection, met them, her eyes on Riviera.  “Margarita, these are my guests, Ms. Kyle and Ms. Quinn.  Please take them to the guest suite and make sure they have anything they need,” he directed. 

              “Yes, Seńor Riviera,” she answered.  She was extremely polite but did not seem afraid of him, Harley noted.  _That had to be a good sign…maybe?_

              “Please get some rest. I know it has been a difficult evening.  Would you like me to send up a drink to help you relax?” Riviera asked.

              “I’d love a cabernet sauvignon, if you have anything decent?”  Selina’s tone was sweet and innocent but her words nearly made Harley choke.  Was her friend suicidal?  There were more guns in this house than she’d ever seen in one place and, given that she grew up in a town full of NRA members, that was saying something!  Riviera, however, seemed unbothered.

              “I have a 2009 Screaming Eagle that you should enjoy.  I’ll send up two glasses in case your friend changes her mind.”

              The second they were behind the door of the guest suite and alone, Harley spun on Selina.

              “What the hell was that?  I thought we were both going to get shot for insulting the host!”

              Selina shook her head.  “He knows my family.  And if someone is expecting a queen, you don’t act like a peasant."  She noticed Harley hunting around the room, checking out every surface.  “There isn’t going to be a phone.”

              “So what do we do now?” Harley asked, frustrated.  “I can’t just do nothing with J, Eddie and Ozzy missing.  And why are we even here?  I thought Elliott had us!” Tears were welling up in her eyes despite her resolve to be as brave as Selina.  Her imagination was running wild – if she and Selina had been thrown into a filthy boxcar, what worse fate might have befallen the men? 

              “Try to be grateful we’re not with a sick, twisted fuck who wants us dead, okay?  I don’t know what really happened here.  We’re going to have to wait and see.”  Selina tried to curb her impatience, knowing it was a product of stress and sleep deprivation.  She knew she’d be as upset as Harley if she didn’t understand how the world of organized crime worked.  Riviera wasn’t going to kill a Falcone, nor was he going to kill Harley and piss off a Falcone. They were as safe as you could be in an underground mansion with no way of communicating with the outside world, Selina thought wryly.  At least this place had climate control!

              There was a knock at the door.  Selina answered, and Margarita brought a tray inside with two glasses of wine, setting it down on the table. 

              “ _Gracias seńora,”_ Selina told her and closed the door behind her as she left.   She took one glass and held the other out to Harley.  “We can’t do anything right now.  We’ve each had two or three hours of sleep in the last 48 hours; if a door opened up right now, we wouldn’t make it a hundred yards without falling on our faces.”  Her tone softened when she saw that Harley was starting to cry.  “Look, I have known J for a lot longer than you have.  He is nothing if not resourceful, and the man could sell ice cubes to Eskimos.  If he died and went to Hell, he could talk the Devil into stepping down and putting him in charge.  He’s probably already free and looking for us.” 

              “You’re – you’re probably right,” Harley admitted, wiping her eyes with her sleeve and leaving a filthy track across her cheekbones. 

              “He talked _you_ into his bed and you told me that was absolutely never going to happen,” Selina pointed out, which made Harley smile despite herself.  “Now, finish your wine and go take a shower – I think you stink even worse than I do.”

              Harley nodded, obediently took a last drink of the wine, and headed for the bathroom.  She could at least get cleaned up, though she was positive she would not be able to sleep, between worrying about J and the guys and wishing she had called her sister that morning. 

* * *

              George unlocked the door, silently thanking his maker that Elliott hadn’t tried to re-enter the railway car as he worked.  Of course, he would have simply lied and said the door was stuck, but something about Elliott scared him more than the other criminals he’d worked for.  There was a definite screw loose inside that dude’s head – more than one.  He didn’t know much but he knew crazy when he saw it.  Now, if crazy came with a big paycheck, crazy could hire him, but the thought of escaping all this bullshit forever was like a dream come true, and he knew the offer was legit. It had only taken the Joker five minutes on George’s phone and George was already almost $3000 richer. 

              “I can’t send more than that without voice verifying it with the bank,” the Joker had explained. “But there’s a lot more where that came from, buddy.”   He’d shown George his bank balance and George felt his head spinning. He couldn’t even _imagine_ having that kind of money – and apparently that was the petty cash, daily spending account.  Life was not fair, but maybe his ship had finally come in with these famous hostages. 

              He settled himself back into a comfortable chair and returned to playing on his phone.  The three men were lying exactly where Elliott had left them, ropes crossing over their bodies in numerous spots, the gags back in place on Ozzie and Eddie. Nothing about their appearance revealed that they were no longer restrained.  Business as usual and he was pretty sure they were almost to their destination in Hermasillo.  What happened there was not going to be his problem.  He had a closet to hide in until it was all over.

* * *

              “Fuck!”

              Bruce swore under his breath as he realized the fence he’d grabbed for balance was barbed wire.  He had been walking around the same acre of cow pasture for the past two hours.  Selina’s GPS signal had simply disappeared here, and it wasn’t the reception – he had four bars on his phone.

              It just didn’t make sense. The signal was good, and he didn’t think there was any way for the chip to have stopped transmitting.  Yet the red dot on his phone’s app had stopped here – and then disappeared completely. And here he was, _not at all_ dressed for the freezing early morning desert, stumbling around tripping over tumbleweeds in the middle of nowhere in a Kiton suit.  Which he was now bleeding all over…

              With a frustrated sigh, he made his way back to the car and got inside, firing it up to turn on the heat and defrost himself.  Maybe it was time to call for help, but he just didn’t trust anybody with Selina’s life.  He knew that if he could find whoever had her, they’d be more than willing to play a round of let’s make a deal – and he had enough money to make a deal with anyone.  Criminals loved money; it’s why they were criminals.  But first he had to find them, and let them know they had a moneymaking option other than doing whatever twisted things Thomas Elliott ordered.

              He picked up his cup and drank the rest of his coffee, grimacing at the fact that it was cold, but cold coffee was better than no coffee at all after twelve hours of driving.  Bruce closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the seat.  Maybe if he just closed his eyes for five minutes…

               The phone in his pocket let out a faint blip and he grabbed for it with his injured hand, barely noticing the pain.  _The GPS signal was here._   How could that be?  He opened the car door and jumped out and this time it was light enough out that he saw very clearly the faint tire tracks on the ground that led to a line of brush and…disappeared?

              Bruce fell to his knees, heedless of his expensive clothes and dug in the dirt with both hands, coming up against a solid object.  It looked like dirt, but when you touched it, you realized it was steel camouflaged with a layer of sand-colored high-density plastic above it.  He couldn’t dig through the fake dirt but he could move the real dirt next to it, and he found there was a line of steel cutting its way across his path.  He dug at the surrounding soil with the tenacity of a dog trying to recover a bone. 

Suddenly the ground shifted under him, a feeling he remembered all too well from the biggest earthquake he’d ever been in and then he was rolling over and over with nothing to grab onto, deep into the earth. 

* * *

              The Joker tensed up as he felt the train coming to a stop.  _Show time_ , he thought.  He was intensely aware that anything could happen, but to him it was just another rush.

              _You know what you are?  You’re a fucking adrenaline junkie, and it’s going to get you killed._

              He grinned at the memory.  Peter was his manager before Selina, and the Joker had done his best to make Peter pull out the few remaining hairs left on the sides of his bald head.  Being killed was better than being another boring fucking sheep in this nation full of morons who were always waiting for someone else to tell them what to do.  Not him – he was a man of action, in all things. 

              Besides, he wasn’t going to get killed.  He’d always felt immortal and life had shown him no reason to doubt that belief.   He supposed he would die some day but he didn’t feel like it was today.  And apparently it hadn’t been Wednesday, either.  The thought made him giggle out loud.

              “Did I miss something funny or have you finally lost your mind the whole way?” Eddie asked.  The Joker turned his head to see that Eddie had pulled the gag from his mouth, apparently able to stay silent no longer. 

              “Just thinking I might have more lives than a cat,” the Joker answered.  “Okay, we’re all clear on what we’re doing when our favorite pervert comes back in here, right?  Put the gag back on, I don’t want him to notice anything’s different.  Whoever he comes closest to, you’re it.”

              “Hope it’s not me.”  That was Oswald muttering under his breath through the gag.  “Never even been inna fight.”

              _We both hope it’s not you, either,_ the Joker thought.  Eddie was at least super fit, if not normally a violent sort, but Ozzie was basically a marshmallow with mad guitar skills.  Harley would have been better to have on his side in a fight and he wished she was there – for many reasons, including that he felt like he’d be closer to his A game if he didn’t have this annoying feeling in the pit of his stomach that he’d identified several hours ago as _worry_.  It was beyond strange and unsettling. He was used to worrying about money but not worrying about people.  People worried about _him_.  That was the natural order of things, yet somehow this tiny blonde girl had shown up and turned everything on its head. 

              The door to the car slammed open and Elliott bolted inside, his eyes wild, slamming the door behind him and locking it.  Outside they both heard gunfire.

              “I’m confused, Tommy,” the Joker piped up in his snarkiest tone.  “Aren’t _you_ the bad guy here?  Why are you running, you seeing dead people?”

              _Come on over here, you sick fuck. Get angry enough to come on over here._

Elliott just turned to him, his mouth hanging open in fear.  He was shaking all over and the Joker realized that even though Elliott was still armed and the gun in his hand, he wasn’t much of an adversary at this point.  The Joker thought about whether he could get away with just rushing him.

              “Shut up!”  Elliott hissed.  “He’s going to come in here and kill us all!”

              “Who?  Satan, the Bogeyman, Donald Trump?  Who are we worried about today, Tommy boy?”  The Joker cackled.  “Are you on shrooms?  Because I can tell you, you gotta be careful with that shit. I almost jumped off my balcony once.  I totally forgot I couldn’t fly!”

              “Shut-“ Elliott’s words were cut off as a loud explosion blew the door inward.  He was thrown to the floor and the gun slid from his hands.  The Joker leapt off the couch, the loose ropes flying and tripping him as he dove for it, scrambling to his feet with the weapon in his hand.  The smoke was so thick he could barely see, but he registered that Ozzie and Eddie had been smart enough to get to their feet as well.  He kicked the ropes off and stepped onto Elliott’s neck, holding him in place with a boot, as the acrid smoke cleared and three men stepped into the car.  Two were garden-variety thugs, but the leader was a stout man in a loud purple button-down shirt, jeans and cowboy boots with a jeweled belt buckle the size of his hand.           

              “ _Donde estan las mujeras_?” he demanded gruffly, not even bothering to tell the Joker to drop his weapon.

              “ _Ojal_ _á supiera!_ ” the Joker replied. 

              They stared at each other for a long moment before the man spoke again, this time in English, his expression turning from anger to wonder.

              “Are you the _Joker_?”

              A slow smile lit the Joker’s face.  _This is why it’s good to be me,_ he thought.  He felt Elliott squirm under his boot as he tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans and answered.

              “That’s me.”  He extended his hand.  “And you are?” 

               The man took his hand and shook it firmly.  “Hector Medina.  That piece of shit under your boot sold me two women and did not deliver.”

              The Joker didn’t miss a beat.  “ _Que cabr_ _ón_!” he exclaimed in sympathy.  “Well, don’t let me stand in your way.”  He stepped back and let the two men with Medina grab Elliott.  They pulled him to his feet as he babbled and pled with them not to hurt him, and yanked him out of the car. 

              “I pay good money for them,” Medina complained. “He say he have pretty blonde girl. That’s what my clients in Dubai like.”

              The Joker felt a strong urge to rip the man’s head off building inside of him, but forced himself to stay calm.  Medina was likely the best informant he was going to find.  He couldn’t kill him – at least not yet.   Not until he got Harley back.  

              “I know the two women you mean and he cheated you bad, dude.  He did not tell you one of them is a Falcone,” the Joker informed him.  The look of shock on Medina’s face told him everything he needed to know.  Medina backed away, shaking his head.

              “ _Joder!”_

              “I’m a _very_ generous man and I need to find them both.  It’ll be more money than you were going to make selling them.  Much more.  And the family will be very grateful.”

              “They supposed to be delivered here.  Hermosilla.  They not here and he has no answers.”  Medina jerked his chin at the outdoors just as they both heard Elliott screaming in pain.  The Joker smiled at the thought; this was the kind of justice that could never be found calling the police.  

              “He would have told you if he knew. He’s scared shitless.”  The Joker made a meowing noise and Medina chuckled.  Except for his lost investment, this day was going pretty good for him too – he was getting revenge and hanging with _the Joker_.  Adriana and Jimena would be thrilled when he told them! 

              Medina, like many in his business, kept his personal and professional life strictly separate – at home, he was a loving husband and father who helped his girls with his homework and opened up his home to his elderly mother-in-law who received the best of care.  Once he left the house, it was a different story.  His conscience never tugged at him when he left that world to participate in the human trafficking that filled his pockets. 

              Life was about power – those who had it and those who did not and he counted himself lucky to be in the first group.  He assumed the Joker was the same; most of these celebrities thought the women of the world existed for their entertainment.  Maybe if he helped him get these two back that he clearly had a thing about, this would be the start of a lucrative new business relationship.  Medina smiled at the prospect of being wealthier than he had ever imagined.

              “Come on.  I got a car out there, we go to my house and eat and I call people.  My daughters will be so excited to meet you. They are twins, eleven years old.”

              The Joker looked at his two bandmates, who were smart enough to have stayed quiet through all of this, but looked utterly terrified.  “Come on, guys!  Let’s go make a couple of little girls happy,” he exclaimed cheerfully.  He stepped over George’s body as he exited the railcar and resisted the urge to look back and see the faces Ozzie and Eddie were making as they did the same.  _Rest in peace, George,_ he thought.  They all made their way down to the ground and into Medina’s waiting limo, in time to see Medina’s men throwing Elliott, now hog-tied with rope, into the back of their van.

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***I really did add two chapters in a 24 hour period so if you haven't read yesterday's, start with chapter 24, not this one, or you're going to be lost***
> 
> Once evil has flown out and hit you in the face, it's hard to stuff it back in and it's hard to move on and pretend you didn't see it. Bruce has to look hard at his beliefs about right and wrong and make a decision. Meanwhile, the group's disappearance is stressing out those at home and Selina makes a deal.

_"You're playing with Pandora's box. Sometimes it's better not to open it. Sometimes, it's better not to know."_

_~ Tatiana de Rosnay_

 

              “Harley, wake up.”

              She dimly registered that Selina was shaking her by the shoulder, but Harley was so tired she felt like she could sleep through it. The bed was the most comfortable she’d ever been in and she’d slept a deep, dreamless sleep despite the circumstances.  She burrowed under the pillow with her head.

              “Riviera asked us to join him for dinner.  It’s time to get up.”

              _Dinner?_   Harley startled awake at that.  Had she been sleeping all day?  She sat up and looked at the bedside clock, realizing it was indeed 6:00 p.m.  She found a glass of water on the table and gratefully drank from it, coughing and clearing her throat. 

              “What’s been happening?  Do you know anything more?”  she managed to choke out.

              “I slept nearly as long as you did.  Get up.  The closets are full of women’s clothes and dinner is formal.  We’re supposed to be down there in a half hour, and he said he has a surprise for me.”

              Harley looked at her suspiciously.  “For you. Not for us.”

              “For me.  He’s up to something but I don’t know what.  We just need to be alert.”   Selina, who was already dressed in a sleeveless black silk minidress with lines of studs running in a strip down the front, went to the closet and pulled the door open, rummaging around before emerging with a cocktail length burgundy dress with a deep, narrow v-neck and gold accents around bottom of the skirt.   “Here you go.  I’ve never been in a situation where looking good didn’t improve my odds.  This is no different.   We play by the rules until we see an opportunity to change them.”  She laid the dress on the bed and went back into the bathroom to do her own makeup. 

              Harley stared after her, wondering how it was Selina was so calm.  She thought of herself as a person who didn’t freak out in a crisis – after all, growing up on a farm was not for wimps.  It wasn’t unusual to have to deal with things like having to round up all the cattle and bring them into the barn when a freak ice storm hit.  She’d been around guns all her life, and Jake holding one on her sister when he was high as a kite (her parents never knew about that one) and she’d talked him down, gotten him to drop the gun and leave.

              _This was just Jake in a fancier suit. And this guy was probably a lot more stable._

              She got out of bed, grabbing the dress.  Selina was right – they would play by the rules, for now.

* * *

              The dining room was as extravagant as the rest of the house, full of intricately carved furniture.  A brass chandelier hung above the table which was already set with a variety of salads, bread and glasses of wine.  There were guards at all corners of the room, standing discreetly back against the walls.  Harley entered behind Selina and heard a little noise escape her friend.  She peered around her to see Riviera at the head of the table -  and Bruce Wayne sitting to his left.  The billionaire looked more than a little worse for wear, his expensive suit covered in dusty streaks and a long scrape across his face, but he was as composed as if this was just another business dinner. 

              “Bruce.  How did you find us?” Selina finally managed to ask.  She wanted to rush to his side but she held herself back, testing the waters. 

              “Your fiancé has been sharing his very interesting technology with me,” Riviera explained.  “It’s fascinating, and it should prove very useful to me in the future.  Come join us.”

              Selina looked at them quizzically.  “I didn’t have my phone when I woke.  Neither did Harley.”

              “You have your ring,” Bruce reminded her.  He stood up and pulled out the chair next to his, gesturing to her to sit.

              Selina stared at him, letting out a long breath.  There were many things she wanted to say, but none of them were appropriate in front of Riviera, so she decided to hold her tongue and sat down gracefully in the chair he offered.  Riviera likewise offered the chair next to himself for Harley and she joined them.

              “Both of you look lovely. It’s a shame this has to be a business dinner, but we have delayed that conversation long enough.” 

              Selina nodded and Bruce turned to her.  “I’ve filled Mr. Riviera in on Mr. Elliott’s business activities.  He shares our belief that they need to be terminated immediately.”

              “As well as Elliott himself?” Selina asked.

              “He is alive, for now,” Riviera told her.  “In a fair bit of pain, I would imagine.”

              “You have him?” Selina asked, amazed, but before he could answer, Harley could restrain herself no longer and interrupted.  “Has he told you what he did with the Joker and the other members of the band?”

              Riviera smiled at her question.  He gestured down the table and Harley realized three more places were set.   She turned back to him, about to ask more, but they heard the faint nose of the overhead door from outside and her eyes lit up with hope. 

              “Mr. Elliott inadvertently provided me with an opportunity to solve a troubling problem.  What’s that American saying?  When life gives you lemons, make lemonade?”  Riviera laughed.  A moment later the door opened and the Joker, Eddie and Ozzie came in, escorted by a guard on each side, all looking like they’d been dragged through the desert behind a truck.  The Joker lacked none of his usual swagger, whereas the guys in the band looked ready to collapse. 

              Harley didn’t even think of trying to show Selina’s level of self control.   She pushed herself away from the table and dashed across the room, colliding so hard with the Joker that she nearly knocked him off balance.  He wrapped his arms around her so tightly she could hardly breath, his relief at seeing her alive and well impossible to miss. 

              “Shhh, it’s okay,” he murmured into her ear, looking over her shoulder at their host.  “Mr. Rivera, I presume?”

              “Welcome, Mr. Napier.  I trust your escort here can’t join us?”

              The Joker stepped back from Harley, who was startled at hearing someone address him by his given name for the first time since they'd met, but he continued holding her hand.  “I’m afraid he is a bit indisposed. Lead poisoning.”  The Joker grinned at their host.

              Riviera chuckled at the comment, “Please have a seat.”  He watched at the three men sat down.  “Mr. Wayne joined us earlier today and filled me in on your troubles with Mr. Elliott.”

              “Glad someone knows what’s going on,” Ozzie grumbled under his breath, yelping as J kicked him in the shin under the table and gave him a _not now_ look. 

              “He’s been a problem, and not one I prefer to handle via the authorities,” the Joker said, immediately starting in on his meal and drinking an impolite amount of his wine in one gulp. It had been a long time since any of them had eaten, while he wasn’t much of a wine drinker, it would do for now.  Harley kept hold of his left hand as though he might escape, and he let her, secretly enjoying the comfort as much as she did.  

              “He obviously needs to be eliminated,” Selina interjected.  “But we want to eradicate his entire business, not just him.”

              Riviera took another sip of his wine.  “We have been discussing that,” he said, nodding at Bruce.   “Elliott was shipping his product through Mexico to the United States.  The laws and customs are lax here; it’s the easiest point of entry. Make no mistake – his is not a business I want here.”

              “What was Medina’s connection?” the Joker asked.

              “Assisting him with shipments.  Medina is a human trafficker, though he sticks to adults and he’s old school.  Plies them with drugs, alcohol and promises of money.”  He turned to Harley.  “He would have injected you with heroin until you agreed to do anything for your next shot.”

              She shuddered and held the Joker’s hand more tightly.  There were few threats that could scare her more than that one. Nobody had to tell her what you’d do when you needed that next hit…she’d seen it for herself and she wasn’t arrogant enough to think she’d be any more able to resist it than Lauren had. 

              Riviera noticed her reaction.  “My organization does none of that.  I sell nothing that has a heartbeat and I don’t want it here.  This entire region is under my-“ he hesitated, looking for an acceptable word, “- supervision.  I know what goes on here and I run a respectable business.  We do not harm women and children here."  He nodded to a waiter and their wine glasses were quickly refilled.  "Now let’s enjoy our meal and then we can discuss how to resolve this situation to everyone’s benefit.”

              As eager as everyone was to ask questions and establish that they would indeed be going back home shortly, Selina gave them all a stern look.  It was important to acknowledge and respect this man’s hospitality and she might indeed have to be the one to talk business with him – alone.   She and the Joker exchanged a look and she smiled.  Somehow she knew he'd walk in the door perfectly all right.   He always did.  

* * *

              Heather Washington paced back and forth on the same balcony where Harley had her first lunch with the Joker several months ago, running a hand nervously through her curly, dark hair.  She was a relatively minor assistant in the grand scheme of things – she’d been working in the office for several years part-time, helping with whatever overflowed from Selina.  She’d never asked for Harley’s job because she had a two year old daughter and couldn’t go out on the road, but she knew Selina considered her a valuable member of the team and someone who had common sense in a crisis.  Remembering that, she had called Nick DeAngelis, the Joker’s lawyer, and asked him to meet her at the house.  Now she was just waiting as he crept his way to her in late afternoon rush hour traffic.

              The band, Selina and Harley had all failed to appear as expected on Thursday afternoon after the attack at the concert on Wednesday night.  She and the P.R. team suspected they simply needed some time to recover and had jetted off somewhere else, given the break in the tour schedule.  Although it was not like Selina not to keep her up to date, she put it down to trauma after the attack and resolved to leave them alone.  But as e-mails and calls continued to go unanswered, and the phones went to voicemail as if turned off, Heather – as well as the P.R. people, even the senior guy Brent – became more and more concerned.

              Still, Heather remembered the rules.  One of them was that the Joker does whatever he wants whenever he wants, consequences are irrelevant.  Another was, never, ever, _ever_ call the police. No matter what you think is happening, calling the police is never the answer.  Selina was the only person with the authority to call the police if she was certain a problem was third-party only, like an obsessed fan breaking in.  Otherwise, the assumption was that any incident that looked like a crime _might_ involve the Joker and the last thing anybody wanted was the authorities snooping around.

              “Heather,” Nick said, as he walked in.  She immediately felt better.  She had never seen Nick upset and didn’t think he was capable of it – he just _handled things_. 

              She let out an audible sigh of relief.  “Thank you for coming.”

              “What’s going on that you couldn’t talk about on the phone?  Here, sit down.”  He gestured to her and they sat at the table. 

              “I haven’t heard from anybody in the band, or Selina, or Harley in 48 hours.  They were all on the same plane, but the plane arrived in Los Angeles.  No one is answering their phone or e-mail.”

              Nick looked instantly concerned.  “And you haven’t received any ransom demands?  His agency hasn’t, or his label?”

              “I’m sure they’d call us if they had.  Nothing.  I feel like they’re in danger, especially after what happened Wednesday night, but Selina always tells me never to call the police.”

              “Okay. I’ve got my own investigator I can get on this.  We’ll see if there’s been any social media activity at all and look for credit card purchases.  If it was just the guys missing, I’d tend to believe they’d pulled a disappearing act but that’s not Selina’s style.”

              They heard footsteps coming and Ihsan, one of the P.R. guys, skidded into the room, his phone held out in front of him.

              “Found them!  They’re doing some charity concert in Mexico.”

              Heather and Nick exchanged a look.  “What?” they exclaimed in unison.  Nick grabbed the phone and they both watched it.  It was indisputably the Joker and his band, on stage on some beach.

              She sighed in relief and put her head in her hands.  “These people are the reason I have gray hair at 27,” she mumbled.

* * *

              “This is unreal,” Harley whispered in Selina’s ear.  They stood beside each other, as always, just off the stage, watching the band perform.

              Selina shrugged.  “He thrives on stress.  I’m not even surprised.  I’m surprised Ozzie and Eddie haven’t wet _their_ pants though!” 

              They were watching the Joker put on one of his better performances, in front of a huge crowd of elated locals, who were thrilled to hear about the surprise concert and had snatched up every available ticket.  The Joker was charming them as usual, joking with them in Spanish and asking them questions about their home.  He was in the highest of spirits.  Selina knew there was a certain rush to be achieved by killing your enemy, she'd grown up watching it, but she didn’t share that with Harley.  The girl had already seen too much this week and Selina looked forward to getting back to L.A. and putting this part of her life off to the side, in the compartment in which it belonged.  It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate Riviera’s help, but he was already making noises about how useful a women like herself could be in his organization, and asking if she was positive she wanted to return to a life that seemed to him a waste of both her talents and her heritage. 

              Selina knew her choice and had never wavered.  She didn’t want the life she had been born into.  She just wanted to resume the tour and do what she knew she did well, with no greater hazard in her life than the occasional violent fan. There was nothing glamorous about prison or death; she could have a life most people envied without risking either and she’d seen that clearly years ago.  At this point, she dared to hope that she might be married to Bruce in a year and that she and Damian would be developing a good relationship.  A little peace, quiet and domesticity sounded better than ever before after the past week.  

              Riviera had been an easy man to make a deal with.  He liked his public image as a philanthropist and a pillar of the community, and putting on a benefit concert to help the victims of a hurricane on his country’s coast was all it took to repay him.  Medina, who had facilitated Elliott’s transport of his movies to America, was dead and Elliott…was most likely dead by now, Selina thought.  Riviera had given his word it would be handled, and she had no reason to doubt him.  Now she just couldn't wait to get this over with and get on the waiting jet, which Riviera assured her had wifi.  Selina couldn’t wait to get online and start putting out all the fires she knew had started in their absence.

* * *

              Bruce Wayne followed the guard down the steps into what he realized was both a wine cellar and a temporary prison.  He wondered how many men had died down here, in the company of the impressive collection of dusty bottles and oaken kegs, but he knew better than to ask.  This was the strangest interlude of his life, and he looked forward to being back in his office, without the unsettling feeling of having no control over his life.  He understood that if it were not for Selina’s family name, the entire story would have ended differently, and he understood that the problem of Thomas Elliott was being handled, but he still wanted answers.

              When they approached the cell, Elliott looked at him as though he saw a ghost.  “Bruce Wayne.”  He stared at his rival’s torn and dirty suit.  “Bad flight?  Is watching me die really that important to you, or are you planning to do it yourself?” Elliott’s face was bruised, and his usually perfect hair a mess.  The shredded wreck of an expensive suit clung to his body, bloody streaks on the white shirt. 

              “I’m not here to kill you,” Bruce said quietly.  He turned to the guard.  “Could I speak with him in private?”  The guard nodded and retreated up the stairs, to the door that led to the main level  of the house.

              “Then what?  You want to make a deal?”  Elliott laughed, a crackling sound from a dry throat.  “Oh, I underestimated you. I thought you were such an _honorable_ kind of guy, but this is who you really are, isn’t it?  My life for what?  My other businesses?  Money?  What _is_ it that you want?”

              “We went to the same college together, Thomas.  You had all the same advantages I did.  More so.  You had your parents.  You’re a successful businessman with legitimate businesses.  _Why_?”  Bruce’s voice was deep and harsh, the anger unmistakable.  Elliott made a noise that was almost a giggle in response.

              “You really don’t get it, do you?  You can’t get it, because you’re so fucking good.”  Elliott’s voice was scornful.  “You don’t see what's right in front of your nose.  How do you think I got so successful with my _legitimate_ companies?  How do you think I had the power to make so many deals advantageous to myself?"  He took a breath and smiled.  "Which business do you think came _first?_ ”

              Bruce staggered back a step, the truth hitting him like a brick.  He remembered reviewing the names connected with the film company, and the shock he’d felt to see that people he did business with on that list.  _How many more?_  How many were clients, who Elliott had controlled with blackmail because he knew the twisted secret they hid from everyone else?

              He couldn’t think about that right now.  This was the man who had killed his son’s mother, tried to kill him and the woman that he loved, tried to kidnap his son.  He was behind bars, perhaps not the bars Bruce had imagined, and he would be able to hurt no one else.

              Elliott sat there smiling, watching his reaction.

              “I won’t kill you,” he told Elliott, and turned on his heel to go, then paused and looked back.  “But I don’t have to save you.”

              Elliott shot to his feet, his fists on the barn.  “Wait!”

              Bruce walked up the stairs briskly, his conscience finally quiet on the subject of Elliott’s fate.

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy fluffy fluff. A whole bunch of it. I was in a fluff-writing mood after torturing everybody in "Experiment" last week so ... be careful, you might get a sugar high from this chapter! (But really, don't they deserve it after all that crap in Mexico?)
> 
> One of you made a request and you're getting your wish - with a bit of an AU twist.
> 
> And of course the women are overthinking things and the men aren't thinking at all 'cause I like to write realism. :-)

_"I start with a character and a situation, but I don't know what's going to happen until I write it. Sometimes things happen that surprise me." - Louis L'Amour_

_Amen, brother! Who are these control freaks with outlines and a plan?  - Cvioleta_

* * *

 

                Selina opened her eyes to darkness.  She reached for her phone on the bedside table and it lit up at her touch.  5:30 a.m., right on the nose.  Even when she _could_ sleep in, she couldn’t sleep in. 

                She sighed and slipped out from under the covers, pulling on a robe, careful not to disturb her sleeping fiancé.  Bruce had finally fallen asleep just a few hours ago, after much more tossing and turning than usual.  She knew he had a lot on his mind, and suspected she had even more.  Selina still felt uneasy, even though she knew Elliott was dead. She should feel nothing but relief, but the last few months had her rattled.  They were safe now, or were they?  Was anybody ever really safe?  All the money in the world, and they’d almost all been dead.  The only thing that saved them in the end was the part of her life and her history she rejected.  And that part, in the end, had been responsible for meting out justice. 

                _Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all._

_Maybe it was just a tool like any other._

She wanted to walk out onto the deck for some air, but was worried someone would see her, so she simply sat down in a chair by the open French doors.  They were in the guesthouse at Bruce’s beach house.  He had, understandably, not wanted to be away from Damien tonight, but he hadn’t wanted to be away from Selina, either.  So, she came for a “business meeting” that evening, hid her car in the garage and never left, and he left the main house after his son was fast asleep. 

                One thing about someone trying to kill you – it kept your mind off of worrying about anything else.  Now those thoughts were already coming back. What _was_ a decent amount of time before you went public with your relationship after your boyfriend’s wife was murdered?  What if Damien stopped thinking she was cool in a hurry once he found out she was going to marry his father?  What would it be like actually living together?  She had, so far, managed to completely avoid living with a man, and now she was contemplating living with _two_ of them.  Would they remember to put the toilet seat down?  Would she even be able to train them to keep the doors closed and not let the indoor-only cats out?

                Selina shook her head.   It was all unsettling and she preferred to focus on things she could control.  She turned her attention back to her phone and started to catch up on her e-mails. They’d fly back out to Chicago to re-start the tour in a few days.  The week off had been a scheduled break, but of course no one had planned to spend it being kidnapped in Mexico.  Riviera’s idea for a benefit concert had proved to be a stroke of genius; it made their detour look not only planned, but admirable.  _Good publicity for all around, the band and the mob,_ Selina thought.   Sure, someone could find the connection if they tried, but fortunately, the world already had Sean Penn, hanging around with dictators and making everybody else’s questionable foreign political connections pale in comparison. 

                Really, all she had to worry about was making sure the band was holding it together and that Ozzie hadn’t gotten the bright idea to tell Marina, who never met a pap she didn’t like, about their ordeal.  Eddie was the soul of discretion; he was never the problem, and as much of a loose cannon as the Joker could be, she knew he understood the importance of his image and would never say a word about events that might portray him as anything worse than a bad boy rocker with a penchant for pranks.  Ozzie had babbled on the whole way home about how J was one hell of a shot and had saved their lives, and she hadn’t asked for details.  She just told him to consider the whole thing a party that got a bit out of hand, be glad it was over and try to forget it.  

                Feeling much better now that she was thinking about work, Selina pulled the stylus out of her phone and started scribbling a to-do list of calls to make once it was a decent hour.  She worked steadily as the sun started to come up, occasionally looking up to enjoy the ocean view.  So intent was she on her work that she jumped when Bruce walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.  She hadn’t even heard him.

                “Why do I feel like if the world was ending, you’d still be working?” he asked, but he sounded amused.  She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him.

                “Of course.  It would keep my mind off the world ending!”

                In response, he leaned over and removed her phone from her hand, putting it down on the table before he pulled her to her feet and into his arms. 

                “Have I told you how much I admire you?”

                She shrugged and looked away, his direct gaze making her a little uncomfortable.  “My last name saved us.  Not me.”

                Bruce shook his head.  “I’ve never met anyone, man or woman, who could have handled the last week as well as you did.”

                “I didn’t realize I had options,” she joked, and tried to squirm away but he kept her encircled in his arms. 

                “I mean it.  Let’s see – you survived an explosion that could have killed you, talked thousands of people out of a fatal stampede, kidnapped, could have frozen to death on a train, kidnapped from your kidnapper, put on a concert on six hours’ notice and I bet you’ve already caught up on your e-mails.” 

                Selina nodded.  “Guilty as charged.  But why all the flattery?  I’m already marrying you, you know.”

                “I know.  But that’s not all I want from you.”  He whispered it in her ear and let it trail off into kisses down the side of her neck. 

                “I think what you’re talking about _is_ included in that marrying thing, Mr. Wayne.” 

                “Oh, you might be surprised.”  He started to slowly untie the sash of her robe with one hand while keeping the other firmly locked around her so that she couldn’t escape…not that she was trying.  He leaned down and touched his lips to hers, kissing her so gently that she gave up immediately and stretched up on her toes to meet him.  Her robe fell open and she pressed herself against him, wanting to melt into the warmth of his bare chest.  She pulled back for just a moment and shrugged the robe off her shoulders, reveling in the appreciative look on Bruce’s face. 

                “So what was it that you wanted?” she asked sweetly. 

                “It can wait,” he growled and swung her into his arms, picking her up as if she weighed nothing.  Selina giggled as set her down on the bed and rolled on top of her, holding her wrists above her head so she was at his mercy, his passionate kisses silencing the voices in her head.

* * *

                Harley dimly registered an odd sensation around her ear and tried to ignore it, burrowing her head under the covers.  She didn’t know how late she’d slept, but she felt like she could sleep forever after the last week.  And it wasn’t like they’d gotten home and gone straight to bed, either.  Well, they’d gone to bed but not to sleep…either way, she was sure she was owed another 3 hours of rest at the very least.  And this had to be the world's most comfortable bed -  it was like sleeping on a cloud, with sheets and quilts as soft as silk.   

                “Harley, wake up!  Someone wants to meet you!”

                She grumbled incoherently and curled into a ball under the covers, but jumped when something wet and cold touched her bare shoulder.  _What the-_

                She opened her eyes – she almost thought she’d have to pry them open with her fingers – and saw two balls of fluff with eager little eyes bouncing around in front of her.  Harley pulled herself up onto her elbows to get a better look and the orange ball of fluff bounced forward and gave her nose a lick.

                “Oh my God…Hi, honey,” she murmured groggily to the puppy, reaching out to pet the fluff.  Encouraged by the attention, the orange puppy snuggled up in the crook of her neck while the cream colored puppy bounded over her back and tumbled over to the other side.  Harley raised her eyes above the poof of orange in front of her to see the Joker standing there, wearing only a pair of frayed-to-death jeans and looking insanely pleased with himself.  He seated himself on the edge of the bed and both puppies bounced over to him for a scratch behind the ears.

                “When I got down to Riviera’s and saw you, my first thought was that you looked like you needed a hug and a puppy. Or two.”  He grinned at her and she reached out for him with one hand, trying not to disturb the orange pup, who had installed himself between Harley’s chin and the mattress. 

                “I _love_ them!  I haven’t had a dog since the one I grew up with died when I was 16.  Oh my gosh, they’re so adorable!”  Harley sat up, cross-legged in bed and put the cream puppy on her lap.  “Where did you get them?”

                “Kitty’s got all of these friends in animal rescue.  I had them brought over this morning to surprise you, which was easy since you were unconscious.”

                Harley stuck out her tongue at him.  “I was tired, which was all your fault.  _Most_ guys would have left their girlfriend sleep after being kidnapped but _noooooo…”_   She drew out the word and smirked at him.

                “I didn’t hear you complaining.  Moaning, screaming my name, yes… but not complaining.”  She couldn’t help shiver at the memory and he saw it – of course he did, he noticed _everything_ – and snickered.  _You’re doing nothing to bring his ego back within normal limits, Harls,_ she thought to herself. “Anyway,” he continued, “We're celebrating Spoil Harley Day, so these two are the first surprise.  The rescue named them Bud and Lou – you can come up with something more creative if you want.”

                Bud and Lou had each installed themselves on a side of Harley and were trying to crawl up her sides and lick her ears.   “Nope, I think those names are perfect!” 

                He leaned over to kiss her, but Harley pulled back and gave him a look of mock horror.  “Not in front of the children!”   That earned her an impressively dramatic eye roll, as he pulled her toward him and stuck his hand down her nightshirt to squeeze a breast for good measure.

                “Well, today's lesson is sex ed, children!” he announced before kissing her, as she giggled.  “All right, they’re crate trained and as you can see, I got them a nice one.”  He gestured toward what was surely the most blinged out dog crate in existence, decorated with a leopard print mattress that Harley would later learn was a tiny, custom Tempurpedic and an assortment of toys and chews.  “Put the children away and go get dressed.  Something comfortable -  It’s going to be a busy day!” 

                He turned and headed off, disappearing inside his walk-in closet, which was the size of Harley’s bedroom at her old apartment.  That reminded her, she needed to call Ivy and she needed to call Lauren. There was a lot to do during this week’s vacation, and she figured the busier she stayed, the less she’d think about everything they’d gone through last week.  _At least J tired me out so much last night that it stopped the nightmares,_ she thought.  She reached for her phone and checked her e-mails, which were mostly about plans for their next concert date, in Chicago.  Deciding she’d read them in the car, she called Ivy instead, who picked up on the first ring.

                “She LIVES!” came her friend’s enthusiastic voice through the phone.

                Harley laughed.  “I know, I’m sorry, crazy doesn’t begin to describe the last week.”  _Well, that part isn’t a lie,_ she thought. 

                “Yeah, yeah, I know, you and your jet set life with your A-list boyfriend.  Don’t start.” Ivy mock grumbled at her.  “Can you at least get me into some parties with rich gay girls?  I wouldn’t mind a sugar momma about now.” 

                “Oh shit, I’m _sorry_ , I owe you rent.  I’ll send it right over as soon as I get off the phone.” 

                “No worries, I’m just glad to hear from you.  Where are you?”

                “Back in town for a week.  I think my day got planned for me today but dinner tomorrow night? I’m dying to see you and the kitties.  They probably don’t even remember me.  I’m a bad mom.” 

                “Tomorrow night sounds great.  I’ve got screeners!”

                “No way.  How’d you manage that?  Is Alisa hooking up with that douchebag director again?”

                “Bingo!”  Ivy was gleeful.  “He gets a 20 year old and we get first run films in the comfort of our own apartment.”

                “Hooray for Hollywood.  See you tomorrow night.”

                Harley ended the call just as the Joker reappeared, rolling his eyes at her.  “If you’re not dressed in two minutes, I’m undressing you the rest of the way,” he growled.  She giggled, but she did jump out of bed and start digging through her suitcase for clean clothes, wishing she had the rest of her stuff here. 

                _Which begs another set of questions,_ she thought.  _Like…am I moving in?_  They had been inseparable the last few weeks but that was easy when you were traveling.  He hadn’t said anything about what would happen now that they were home – to be fair, they hadn’t been home 24 hours yet.  _Calm down, Harley,_ she thought.  She realized they’d technically only been together a few weeks but given everything they’d been through already, it felt like forever. 

                She found a denim skirt she hadn’t worn yet, a clean red t-shirt and a ponytail holder, took the quickest shower ever, and was ready to go in minutes.  Harley popped out of the bathroom to find the Joker sitting on the edge of the bed, arms folded, looking _terribly_ put upon at having to wait five minutes.  He got up and peered into the mirror, inspecting his reflection.

                “What?  You look f - great,”  she said.  She had almost said that he looked fine, but she’d already learned _no one_ in the creative world liked _that_ particular F word.  Fine didn’t mean fine, it meant, you were...adequate.  In other words, you might as well just shoot yourself right now.

                “There’s more,” he said, turning to her and sounding concerned.

                “More what?”

                “Gray hair.  It came in just now while I was waiting for you to _finally_ be ready.” 

                She sighed.  _Low maintenance, he was not, but his other qualities most definitely made up for it._   “I’ll call Sean from the car and tell him you’re suffering from an invasion of hair that’s a color found in nature. I’m sure he’ll be horrified and drop everything to save you.”

                The Joker chuckled. “He will. I gave him a Jag for Christmas last year.” 

                “Of _course_ you did.”

* * *

                Three hours later, they were both weighed down with multiple bags hung from their arms, and the Joker was grumbling about it.

                “I knew I should have taken Heather with us,” he mumbled as they walked down Rodeo Drive. Harley was grinning ear-to-ear.  She felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, one of her all-time favorite movies, and couldn’t _wait_ to tell Ivy all about it – not to mention surprise her friend with a little something from Prada!  It was a perfect Southern California day, the sun was shining, she was too happy to be tired, and the fact that she'd been imprisoned at a drug kingpin's house three days ago was fading fast.  

                “I can carry all of it if you’re tired,” Harley offered.  “Remember where I came from – it’s nothing compared to a hay bale!”  She giggled. 

                “I’d put my money on you in a fight against any woman on this street,” the Joker observed. “Kitty too.  That’s not such a bad idea.  Maybe I’ll retire and manage you two as bikini mud wrestlers.  I’d make a _fortune_!”

                “You already _have_ a fortune.  You just spent more money this morning than I spend in a year!”

                He winked at her.  “I enjoy dressing you.  I mean, I also enjoy _undressing_ you, but either way, I prefer Gucci to Wal-Mart.”

                “I am not complaining.  I think I like Spoil Harley Day.  I like it so much that I think we’ll follow it with Spoil J Night.”  She giggled and grabbed his butt as they walked, which he loved.

                “Ooooh, hope the paps were watching and got that shot,” he cackled.  “Guess you’ve gotten over your fear of shocking the folks in Nebraska.”

                “I’m being corrupted by the best,” Harley answered with a smile.

                “Oh, sweetheart, we’ve only just begun…”

* * *

                They had reservations for lunch at Mastro’s, so they cut up to Cañon, although the Joker practically had to drag Harley bodily out of the MAC store after she realized he got a discount on everything.  Carrying yet another bag, they crossed the street and headed down the block to the restaurant.  Even the outside looked amazing.  Statues of ivory-colored horses flanked the entrance, which was decorated with metallic panels that shimmered in the sun.  A doorman in a three-piece suit opened the door for them and they headed inside.  As much fun as shopping had been, Harley’s feet hurt and she was starving. Lunch sounded like a great idea.

                The hostess recognized the Joker immediately and rushed over to escort them to their table.  Harley hadn’t gotten six steps inside the restaurant before she realized there was already someone at their table.  Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes grew wide before filling up with tears.  She dropped all of her packages and rushed the last few steps to the table.

                “Lauren!” she cried, throwing her arms around her sister, who greeted her just as enthusiastically.  They both started crying and Harley knew other people in the restaurant were staring, but she didn’t care.  Her sister looked absolutely amazing!  She looked like she was in high school again.  Her blonde hair had grown out from the hack job she’d given it one night when she was high, and it was now cut in soft layers that framed her beautiful face.  Her skin was clear and her eyes were bright, showing none of the dullness and the zombielike look Harley had come to expect. 

                “Harl!  Fame looks good on you, girl!” Lauren cried. 

                The Joker had caught up with them, much relieved that the staff had picked up all of his bags for him and offered to hold them until lunch was over.  Harley remembered her manners and introduced them. 

                “Oh my God, this is such an honor. I’ve been listening to your music since I was twelve!” Lauren exclaimed.  J and Harley exchanged a glance and a mutual wince.  Lauren didn’t even notice and they all sat down at the table.  The waiter showed up to take their drink orders, and Harley was pleased to hear Lauren order water – that was something that would never have happened six months ago.  The Joker wasn’t as well behaved, but Harley had decided to cut him some slack after Mexico.  _Next week though…_

                “So are you all done with the program now?”  Harley asked.

                Lauren nodded, “Yes, and I’ve got all kinds of news.  Are you ready?”  When Harley nodded, she continued.  “While I was there, I made a friend who’s a makeup artist on movies and things.  She started to teach me what she knows and she said I’ve got a really good eye for it.  So I applied to makeup school and…I got in!  I’m going to stay in Los Angeles and go to school.” 

                “I’d love to have you here, but…” Harley broke off, a little puzzled.

                “But what about Olivia?  Well, it seems that this unbelievably generous anonymous donor of mine found out about school and hired a nanny so that I can have my daughter with me and still go to  classes.”  Lauren was grinning from ear to ear, and it was contagious.  Harley turned and looked at the Joker.

                “Nanny – slash – sober living coach,” he clarified.  "And they're going to be living in Ozzie's guesthouse so that they're safe and you can see them as much as you like."  

                “It’s _definitely_ Spoil J Night,” Harley whispered in his ear.  _Whoever said money couldn’t buy happiness did not have a sister who needed rehab,_ she thought.  She couldn’t stop looking at Lauren.  It was almost too good to be true, like a miracle. 

                “Enough about _my_ boring life,” Lauren said.  “I want to hear all about your exciting life on tour with a rock star!” 

                _You don’t know the half of it,_ Harley thought, and launched into the story about the fan who tried to Fed Ex herself to the venue to get backstage.

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK, OK, I know I'm been heavy on the angst in the other 2 stories, so here you go, here's your fluff and smut... not without an unexpected complication, though!

_“The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.”_  
_― Ernest Hemingway_

 

                The Joker had excused himself to spend some time in his studio, saying that he’d gotten an amazing idea for a song and had to get it down on paper before he forgot it.   After making a crack about how old people can’t remember things, and earning a parting swat on the butt, Harley headed upstairs.  She would make good use of the time with a hot shower so that he could come upstairs to a nice, clean girlfriend, not the travel-weary slob she’d felt like _last_ night.   She charged up the stairs, excited to see the puppies again.  They were equally excited to see her, even though Heather had taken them for several walks while she was gone and played with them. 

                “Hey guys!”  Harley bent down and put her fingers into the crate, letting them lick her in greeting.  “I’m just going to take a shower and then we are _allll_ gonna snuggle until Daddy gets home.”  She laughed at herself for saying it, but hey – who could blame her for playing  house a little bit in her head?  Harley giggled and headed into the bathroom. 

                After a shower, shaving everything that needed shaving, spraying herself down with a jasmine body spray and scrunching up her wet hair so that it would dry as attractive, beachy waves, Harley decided she was much improved from last night.  She hadn’t heard a single noise from the bedroom, so most likely she’d accomplished her goal of getting cleaned up and ready before the Joker came upstairs.  _If he ever did,_ she thought, reminding herself not to be _too_ disappointed if he got busy writing and stayed up working all night.  She threw on a short silk robe, opened the bathroom door – and promptly let out a shocked gasp.

                _There was a topless woman.  In their bed._ The woman had long, dark blonde hair and the perfectly carved bone structure of a model.   She looked to be in her mid-thirties and seemed equally surprised to see Harley.

                “Who…what are you…”  Harley backed up a step, wondering if she should just lock herself back into the bathroom and call security.

                “And you are?” asked the woman, who’d at least had the decency to pull up the sheet, although she was making no move to vacate the bed.

                “You first,” Harley ordered, getting her composure back.  “You’re the one in my bed.”

                “Since when is it _your_ bed?”

                Harley scanned the area around the bed.  She didn’t really get “crazy fan” from this woman; she looked and acted like she had money, although Harley knew appearances could be deceiving.  But it was fairly clear she wasn’t armed or anything.  Wouldn’t have anywhere to hide it!  The woman reached over to her purse on the table and Harley tensed, wondering if she was going for a gun, but she only pulled out a set of keys.

                “I _have_ a key.  I’m a very good friend of J’s.  Sofia,” the woman announced, as if that should explain everything.  It didn’t, but the name sounded vaguely familiar to Harley. 

                “I have – those are my dogs,” Harley said, pointing.  “I’m his girlfriend.  You can Google it. Go look at TMZ!” 

                _OK, you sound like an idiot,_ she chastised herself. 

                “That’s hardly proof of anything.  They link him with Emma Cavendish every other week and the only dick she’s ever been near is the kind you strap on,” Sofia said with a knowing smile.  “Look, I’m not kicking _you_ out.  We can share.” 

                “I don’t _think_ -“ Harley started, but she heard the door open.  The Joker bounded in, apparently still full of energy, but stopped short when he saw they had company.  He started laughing. 

                “I see you two have met?” he asked, as casually as if he were introducing two friends at lunch. 

                “Yes, apparently Sofia has a key?”  Harley gave him a glare, knowing full well she was just amusing him, given the way the corners of his eyes were crinkling up.   

                “I’m a popular guy,” the Joker noted with a grin.  “Hey, the more the merrier, right?”  Harley couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not and even she didn’t realize the absolutely murderous look that had spread across her face.  “Kidding, kidding, kidding,” he assured her, putting an arm around her shoulders for emphasis, but enjoying her jealousy just the same.  Sofia rolled her eyes.

                _Stop looking at his chest, you trash heap,_ Harley thought, wishing the Joker was more fond of wearing clothes at home, but as usual all he had on were threadbare sweat pants.

                “Where’d you find this one, J?  Follow you home from Kansas?” she asked, making Harley bristle at her anew.  She thought she had lost the Midwestern look but apparently this skank in their bed had psychic talents.

                “Now, now, be nice and I’ll let you sleep in a guest room,” the Joker responded, wagging a finger at Sofia before turning to Harley. “Sofia is an old friend, who sometimes lacks manners.  Growing up as a princess will do that.” 

                Harley’s eyes grew wide as the pieces fell into place.  _Princess Sofia Van Groenwald, no wonder she looked familiar!  Great, my competition is a princess.  Fabulous._

                “Get dressed and I’ll have Lorinda set you up in a room downstairs,” he told Sofia.  “Come on, sweetheart, let’s go down and get you a nice glass of wine.”  He ushered Harley out into the hallway, shutting the door behind them.

                “What the fuck. What the _fuck_.  How many girls have the keys to your house?” Harley accused. He just laughed, and she wanted to punch him in the nose. 

                “Only a couple. I’ll change the locks.”  Harley was still glaring as he tried to lead her downstairs.

                “She can’t get a hotel room?  What, is her country broke?  _Stop laughing at me!_ ”

                “I’m just laughing because a month ago you wouldn’t let me lay a hand on you and now you’re biting the heads off of princesses who challenge you.  You’re adorable.” 

                “I am _not_. I am pissed off and I want her out,” Harley stage-whispered as they reached the kitchen where the night maid was hand-washing the good china.

                “Lorinda, would you get a guest room ready?” the Joker asked. “I have a friend who made a surprise visit.” 

                “Yes, Mr. Joker,” Lorinda responded and headed off in the direction of the stairs.

                “And change the sheets in our room, please,” Harley called after her. 

                “Our room?”

                “Giving me shit right now would not be the smartest move you’ve ever made.”

                “Here.”  He poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Harley.  “Was that a better one?” 

                Harley drank half of it in a big gulp, making him laugh.  “Better.”  She put her drink down and he put both hands on her waist, picking her up and setting her on the kitchen counter.  He stepped between her knees and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her.  She tried to pull back after a second and argue some more, but he wouldn’t loosen his hold on her and she lost all motivation to do anything except kiss him back within seconds.  He finally let her take a breath.

                “Now, stop worrying about Sofia.  You’re the upgrade, you know.”

                “I am?” 

                “You think I haven’t been paying attention?  You could have left after the shooting at the Met Gala. And the explosion at Madison Square Garden. And if none of that did it, there was being kidnapped by human traffickers and narrowly escaping with your life.  At some point, any woman I’ve known before you would have asked me for a big check – which I would have written – and gotten as far away from me as she could.”

                Harley tilted her head and looked at him with the most serious expression she could muster.

                “ _How_ big of a check?”

                He stared at her in shock.  She started giggling at the look on his face and slowly waggled a finger at him.  “Not one word!  You do it to me _all_ the time.”

                The Joker shook his head at her slowly, his green hair falling over his forehead.  “You are in _so_ much trouble, young lady.”

                “Gonna have to catch me first, old man!”  Harley slid to the ground, ducked under his arm and bolted from the kitchen, laughing.  She didn’t really want to be in the house with that, _ugh_ , woman in it so she ran out to the beach and made it to the edge of the water before he caught her.  It was a beautiful spring evening with the full moon reflecting off the ocean but late enough that they were the only ones outside.  He caught her by the arm and swung her around, picking her up and then they were both down on the sand together.  Harley squeaked in surprise at the cold as the tide rolled in and soaked her back. 

                “Gotcha,” he announced gleefully before dropping his voice to a deep and menacing growl.  “There is…no…escape.  Muahahahahaha!” 

                Harley grinned.  “I guess I’m at your mercy then.”  She shivered as he ran his wet hand down the front of her and untied her robe, throwing it open.  They kissed as the tide came in again, shocking her anew. That water was _cold_ , so why was it such a turn on?   She wriggled her hips, letting him drag her panties down to where she could kick them off, and moaned as his fingers found her clit. 

                “You are going to have sand _everywhere,”_ he muttered in her ear but she just laughed. 

                “I _like_ living dangerously.”

                “I think you _do._ ”  She arched up toward his fingers, trying to get closer, and threw a leg around him, bringing him closer.  He chuckled at the move.  “Damn, you’re strong.”

                “I have to be,” she whispered back.  “It’s not easy keeping this all to myself.”  She slid her hand inside his pants, finding his cock. Well, it wasn’t like she had to _find_ it, she thought with some amusement, it took up all of the available space.  Which was _not_ a complaint. 

                “What are you thinking about? I like that evil grin on your face,”

                “How much I like your huge cock,” she whispered back, a little shocked at herself but she knew he would love it. 

                “Oh, they don’t make them like that in Nebraska?”  He rolled them over in one swift move so that she was on top of him, naked and spread eagled, the bulge between his legs rubbing on the bare skin between hers.  She gasped and squirmed at the feeling, shifting back and forth in a delirium of pleasure as he kissed his way up her neck before finding her mouth again.  Harley reached down, trying to get his pants off but he caught her wrist and stopped her.

                “Not yet,” he whispered in her ear.  “How bad do you want it Harley?”

                “Please,” she whispered back, her wet hair falling around both sides of his face like a curtain.  “Don’t make me beg.”

                “Ah, but I like listening to you beg.  You want it, Harley? You want me inside of you, filling you up completely…touching everything inside of you?”

                She writhed on top of him, letting out a low moan in his ear, but he wasn’t having it.

                “That wasn’t words, sweetheart. Tell me…exactly what you want.”

                Her eyes snapped open, inches from his and her desperation overtook the last vestige of shyness.  “J.  Take your _goddamn pants_ off and fuck me ‘til I scream.”

                With that, he flipped her over again, one hand pulling his pants over his hips.  She brought up her knee and managed to catch the waistband in her toes, pulling them the rest of the way down.  He bit her neck and she thrashed underneath him, squirming herself into position and groaning low in her throat at the feel of his hard length sliding between her legs. 

                He grinned at her, clamped a hand over her mouth and thrust into her just as the tide came up again and splashed cold water over them.  Harley moaned against his hand at the sensation. He always felt _so good_ , like they were meant to fit together.  She pulled her knees up and locked her ankles behind his back as he drove into her.  Then he slowed down, grinding her against the wet sand, his hips moving in slow circles.  Every time the cold water came in, it sent shivers down her spine and she could feel him jerk inside of her in response.   She pulled him to her with her legs and dug her hands into his ass, not able to get close enough.

                He pulled his hand from her mouth and kissed her, smothering the noises she made with his mouth as he picked up the pace again, and she arched up to meet him as she came, so hard she felt it down to her toes.  She moaned into his mouth and the sound of it took him over the edge as well.  They clung together for a long time, neither willing to let the moment end.

                Finally, Harley shifted, becoming acutely aware of the many tiny sharp points of sand stuck to every part of her body, and the Joker rolled off of her, but neither of them had the energy to move, so they simply lay there looking at the stars for a few minutes.   Finally Harley made a noise that was almost a laugh.

                “What?”

                “When I was in high school, I was so embarrassed if I made a noise during sex.  I would just lay there hoping I wasn’t doing it wrong.  I thought maybe there was something wrong with me because I didn’t really like it.”

                “You weren’t the one something was wrong with,” the Joker responded, smug as always.  “Anyway, I promised to corrupt you and you’ve been such a _nice girl_ up ‘til now that I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

                “I _appreciate_ all of your hard work.”

                “I know you do.”

* * *

 

                Harley woke up the next morning and was immediately aware that, no matter how tired they had been, showering would have been an excellent idea.  The bed felt like a sandbox and she had sand _everywhere_ , just as the Joker had predicted.  Something smelled rancid and fishy, and she feared it might be her. 

                The Joker was already up; she could hear him banging around in the bathroom.  The pups were whining to go out, so Harley sat up slowly. She felt something weird in her hair and pulled out a long strand of partially desiccated, totally gross-smelling seaweed.

                “Yuck!” she exclaimed.

                He poked his head back into the bedroom.  “What’s wrong, pumpkin?”

                Harley started laughing.  “There’s freaking seaweed in my hair and half the beach is in this bed. The maids are going to quit!”

                “Nah,” he replied cheerfully.  “Lorinda used to work for John Meyer. She’s seen way worse than seaweed!”

                “Ewww,” Harley responded, getting up and looking at her reflection in the mirror, which set her to laughing again. Talk about bed-head!  She looked like a troll doll, especially with the pastel colors in her hair.  “I need a shower.”

                “Come on in.”  She could hear the sound of water running and it did sound inviting but someone needed to be the adult here, and _clearly_ , that was her. 

                “Uh-uh, you have to be at a meeting in an hour at Astronomy. If I join you, you will get distracted and be late.”

                “So come with me and you can entertain me on the drive.  My driver’s seen it all,” he assured her, chuckling.

                Harley rolled her eyes.  “Do you have to remind me all the time how much sex you’ve had with every other woman on the planet?”

                She just got the trademark evil chuckle in return.  _Men._  Speaking of that topic, she wondered where the Princess of Skankeria was this morning.  Harley walked over to the French doors and looked down.  Oh, _lovely_ , she was eating breakfast on the back deck and already looked like she’d just stepped out of a salon.  Didn’t she need to go do princessy things or something?   Harley let the pups out of their crate.

               "Come on guys, let's go down and see what Auntie Selina is up to.  Maybe you can bite a real live princess, too!"  Harley brushed her hair quickly and put it into a ponytail before throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of leggings and heading down the stairs, her little dogs running ahead of her excitedly.  She ran into Heather as she got to the first floor. 

                "Oh good, you're up. Selina wants to see you."

                "I need to take these guys out," Harley said, gesturing at the fluffballs at her feet. 

                "Can I volunteer?  They're adorable and I'd rather be on puppy duty than dealing with that woman.  She thought I was the maid," grumbled Heather.

                Harley raised her hand in a high-five and Heather hit it.  "The puppies are all yours and I'm telling J you're getting a bonus.  See if you can get them to pee on her foot or something."

                Heather giggled and swept up the puppies in her arms, heading for the deck that led out to the backyard.  Harley smiled at Bud as he looked at her over Heather's shoulder.  Then she turned around and walked quietly down the hall in her bare feet, slipping into Selina's office and closing the door behind her.  

                “Can we call for coffee? I am not going out there again.”  Harley announced.

                Selina nodded.  “I’m not a big fan of hers either.  I was glad she didn't see me come in.  May I ask why you smell like a landfill?”

                “I have seaweed in my hair.”

                “And you’ve left a trail of sand like a snail.  No need to explain…although you might want to get cleaned up.  Nick’s coming over at ten to meet with us.  We’re just going to go over what actually happened last week with him and he’s bringing a couple of documents for you to review.”  Selina poked a button on her office phone.  “Isabel, would you bring in a pot of coffee?  Thank you.”   She looked back up to Harley.  “When we get done with that, I need your help with a boring task that needs to be done. We got the preliminary taxes from the CPA and I always personally audit and check them with our records.  It will go faster if one of us reads and the other checks.”

                “Sure,” Harley responded.  “What documents do I have to review though?”

                Selina smiled. “Well, there are actually two things. One of them is a new contract for you. Your rate of pay has been increased substantially. That’s probably not a surprise.”

                The door creaked and Isabel came in with the coffees, setting Harley’s down in front of her.  Harley noticed it had already been made exactly the way she liked it and even had a caramel swirl on the top.  “Better than Starbucks!  Thank you, Isabel.”  She waited for Isabel to leave before continuing.

                “I didn’t actually know, but of course I can’t complain about a raise. It feels weird getting one under the circumstances,” Harley admitted.

                “It shouldn’t.  You’ve worked hard, been absolutely reliable and shown excellent judgment. I agree with your raise, and I’m not sleeping with you, so consider it fairly earned.”  They both laughed.

                “Well, I guess when you put it that way, I can’t argue.  Thank you.  You know, despite how crazy things worked out, I really did apply to this job because I wanted to learn from you, and I can honestly say I’ve learned a lot.” 

                “Probably some things you didn’t want to know.  But, moving on.  J also asked Nick to draw up a cohabitation agreement, so I guess you’re moving in, too.  Did he share _that_ with you?”

                Harley rolled her eyes but couldn't control the smile on her face.  “What do you think?”  _I should not be this excited about something he didn’t even ask me about,_ she thought.  _Lame, Harley. Lame._

                “I’ll hazard a guess you’re not planning to vacate any time soon, especially with your house guest swimming in circles like a shark around J’s bed?”  Selina smiled and sipped her coffee, knowing the answer already.

                Harley leaned forward and put both hands on the desk.  “Okay, seriously, can I drown her and make it look like an accident?  Don’t famous people get away with that shit all the time?”

                “You’re not that famous yet.”

                “You’re no fun,” Harley shot back, pouting.  “Seriously though, how do I get rid of her?”

                “Well, she owns a 25% interest in Take a Joke, so good luck with that.”

                “WHAT?”  Harley was horrified.

                “Six years ago, we had some cash flow issues here.  You know that J used to be with a different label.  They got into a dispute and almost all the money stopped coming in.  We weren’t as diversified back then; most of the money came through the label and they turned out to have been siphoning cash discreetly for many years.  Millions of dollars were missing. Hence the reason I audit _everything_ personally, now.”

                “I remember reading about J switching labels when I googled him. Didn’t the CEO of his old label hang himself or something?”

                “So I heard,” Selina said, leaving little doubt in Harley’s mind that Selina hadn’t been the least bit surprised by the news.  “Anyway, things got pretty bleak.  I told him to hold off paying me, that I could make do for a while and we’d get him out on tour and get the cash flow issues fixed, but we just couldn’t get from point A to point B, and he was in danger of losing the house.  At the time, he was involved with Sofia, and she offered to buy a percentage of the corporation.  She had the cash in hand and could wire it that day.  It wasn’t a controlling interest, so it looked like a good solution at the time.”

                Harley groaned. 

                “She’s never been a problem about it, but he’s always been more than happy to entertain her when came to town, and I’m fairly sure her perception is that she bought a percentage of _him_ , not just his company.

                “Can we buy her out?” Harley asked.

                “Only if she wants to sell.  We could sue and try to force her out, but J doesn’t want that publicity.  The whole point was the public never found out he was broke and never found out about the embezzlement.  We handled it our way, which by now you realize is the way we prefer.  Her money got us past the problem and things returned to normal.  I know you don’t love this, but you knew he had a past.  She isn’t in town that much.”

                “She’s from another country.  What if I ask the President to pull her visa?  We could finally be on the same side of something!”  Harley smiled sweetly. 

                “Enough.  Go upstairs and take a shower but first make sure J’s in the car out front in 15 minutes.”

                “Yes, ma’am,” Harley said, saluting before dragging herself off the chair and taking the coffee with her.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley and Ivy catch up and Bruce makes Selina a very interesting proposition before the band is off to Chicago to resume their tour. Of course, when things go smoothly, the Joker does tend to get bored and feel the need to liven things up...

“I love anyone who breaks the rules, and musicians always break the rules.”

~ Donatella Versace

 

                “Honey, I’m home!” Harley called cheerfully as she opened up the door of her apartment and poked her head inside.  One of her cats at least had the decency to meep at her, but neither moved from their pile of coverlets on the couch that they were currently ensconced in. 

                “Did you guys even notice I was gone?” Harley asked, setting down her purse just as Ivy came out of the kitchen and started laughing. 

                “What?” Harley asked.

                “I don’t think they recognize you!  If you could see yourself right now, as opposed to the girl who left here…”  Ivy walked over and flipped the blue ends of Harley hair around.  “You were such a nice little Nebraska girl and now look at you.”  Harley was wearing a sheer black blouse through which her bra could be plainly seen and a pair of skintight Prada pants that were black with pink lips all over them.

                “I’m still a nice-“ Harley couldn’t even finish it before she collapsed into giggles.  “OK, I give, I don’t want lightning to strike.”

                Ivy just shook her red mane.  “I’d be giving you more shit but I'm kind of impressed. I didn't think you had it in you!  Come on in, the Chinese just got here.”

                They headed into the kitchen, which smelled delicious.  “Ah, junk food! I’ve been behaving myself since people photograph me every two seconds now. This is definitely going to be cheat night!”  She grabbed a plate and began opening containers and piling it with a little bit of everything and Ivy followed suit before they headed back to the living room and parked themselves on the couch.  The cats became _much_ more interested in Harley’s return when they saw she had food, rubbing on her head and trying to walk down her chest to get to her plate.

                “Freeloaders!” Harley complained.  “You only love me when you want something.”

                “You should thank them for preparing you for the music industry,” Ivy quipped.  “So, fill me in, what’s it really like out there.”

                _I wish I could tell you,_ Harley thought, but she knew she couldn’t share what happened in Mexico with anyone.  “Busy.  I mean, it’s what I expected to a degree. Lots of things can go wrong.  You have to assume they will and always have a plan B. Selina had some personal business to attend to and took off for a while and I had to scramble pretty hard to get up to speed and keep things together, but it was probably a good learning experience.  Scared the hell out of me at the time though!”

                “She’s not upset about you and the Joker? I always wondered if there was something going on there.  They’ve been stuck together like velcro for a loooong time,” Ivy pointed out.

                Harley snorted with laughter, almost spitting rice on a cat. “Oh, god, no, those two never.”

                Ivy smiled and raised her eyebrows.  “Not her preferred flavor?”

                “No, she’s – Look, I can’t talk about it but she’s with someone.  A guy, sorry to disappoint.”

                “Shit, what good are you if you’re not going to come back with all the insider gossip?"  Ivy teased.   "Okay, at least tell me _something_...what’s the craziest thing you’ve done in the last two months?”

                Harley giggled and took a big drink of her wine.  “Oh, probably had sex in the dressing room with the makeup artist on her way. She’d have gotten an eyeful if she’d been 30 seconds faster!”  They both laughed and Ivy raised her glass in a toast. 

                “I’m glad you’re finally having some fun. I used to wonder about you.”

                Harley rolled her eyes and giggled again.  “Hey, he was worth waiting for.  He’s, um, a lot of fun."  She felt herself turning red.    _Time to change the subject!_ "Okay, enough about me!  What and who have you been doing?”  She gave Ivy a naughty grin, knowing her roommate was always good for a story.

                “Well, it’s been a _very_ fun year so far.   Turns out my boss has a nephew who runs a record label, and she was always getting invited to great events but didn’t go.  She felt weird going alone and she’s kind of been a recluse since her husband died.  One day it occurred to her that since this is what I’m going to school for, I might like to go, so we’ve been going to all of these amazing parties and I’ve met literally everyone.”  Ivy beamed, excited about finally getting to fill in her best friend.  “It’s led to more work for me, and unbelievable connections.  Turns out quite a few of music’s A-list have a newfound interest in organic gardening now that weed is legal.”

                Harley’s mouth dropped open.  “Oh my God.  How rich are you right now?”

                “Let’s just say I’m not worried about paying off my student loans anymore.  Plus – come see this.”  Ivy jumped up and grabbed Harley by the hand, dragging her into her bedroom where she threw open the closet door.  “Look at all of this!  A lot of my new clients don’t like to get seen in the same thing twice and they’ve been throwing clothes at me.”  She reached down and grabbed an amazing pair of lace-up boots.  “Manolo Blahnik. I swear they’re not even worn once.”

                “Well, find some in a size 6 and a half for me!  So…have you met any famous girls at all of these parties?”

                Ivy smiled but said nothing.

                “Oh, and _I’m_ the one holding out on the good gossip? That’s your I’m-shagging-someone-famous face. I’ve seen it before, you know.”

                “Let’s just say, life is good and I can’t talk about it,” Ivy responded.  She rummaged through the clothes, pushing hangers to the side and came out with a sparkly burgundy minidress diagonally striped with chains.  “Here, have a present.  Herve Leger.  It’s positively obscene on someone my height but it’ll work for you.”

                “Since when you have minded obscene?” Harley said, laughing, but she took the dress.

                “Since I’m being classy now in the hope of my girl getting brave enough to come out of the closet.”

                “Ahhhh…so that’s the complication?”  Harley asked, as they headed back out to the living room to find their wine glasses.

                “In the closet and a pretty big name.  Her faux boyfriend hangs out 24/7 but we get along fine. He’s gay.  It’s 2018, I don’t know why everybody is so chicken shit about coming out still.”  They flopped back down on the couch and topped off their drinks.

                Harley snorted.  “Nebraska.  That’s why.  I grew up there.  Thou shalt not do anything other than get hetero married by 21 and pop out more little Christians.  Unfortunately, they need the support of fans everywhere, not just in California.  Even J tones down the antics when he’s in the Bible Belt. I saw it myself.”

                “No crotch grabbing?”

                “None. I was so disappointed,” she giggled.  “Of course that was before I’d gotten to grab it myself, which was infinitely better!”

                “You’re on the express bus to Hell, you know,” Ivy proclaimed.

                “Best trip ever!” Harley responded, raising her wine glass in a toast.   

* * *

                The next morning, they were on the Joker's plane headed for Chicago bright and early. The tour buses had been taken there from New York and all had arrived as scheduled days ago, so Selina was confident this part of the tour should go smoothly…now that they had taken care of their little Elliot problem.  

                She sipped her coffee, dimly aware that the Joker and Harley were bickering in the background over some story on TMZ, but she was in too good of a mood to let it ruin her day.   Last night, Bruce had summoned her to meet him over at Astronomy’s office. She’d expected there would be dinner waiting, and he didn’t disappoint, but the evening got more interesting from there.

>                 “There was something I was going to talk to you about this morning, but I got distracted,” Bruce said with a chuckle.  “Not that I’m not distracted now.  Nice dress.”
> 
>                 Selina smiled.  She was wearing a burgundy silk sheath with spaghetti straps and lace details that made it look like lingerie.  It was deceptively simple, but it had cost four figures and the way it hung on her was worth every dime. 
> 
>                 “You’re going to have to get used to it if you marry me.  I have every intention of keeping you in a constant state of distraction,” she purred. 
> 
>                 “I have no doubt.” He couldn’t stop himself from grinning like a schoolboy; Selina always had that effect on him.  “But I really do have something I want to talk to you about.”  He withdrew an envelope from his inside jacket pocket and passed it to her.
> 
>                 “What’s this?”
> 
>                 “Just open it.”
> 
>                 She did and unfolded the pages. It was a contract, quite a long one.  Her first thought was that it was a prenup and she was neither surprised nor offended if it was; after all, a man with his net worth would be foolish to marry without one.   But when she took a moment to skim through it, she realized it was nothing of the sort.  She stopped reading and raised her eyes to meet his.
> 
>                 “Are you serious?”
> 
>                 “Absolutely.  I’m hoping you agree to the transaction.”
> 
>                 “But…” she went back to paging through the paperwork in disbelief.  “I mean, it’s got to be worth-“
> 
>                 “48 million.  Consider it a wedding gift.  Or a gift for making you wait too long for our wedding.”  Bruce smiled; he had finally rendered Selina speechless, and that wasn’t easy.
> 
>                 “Bruce, I really don’t know if I can accept this.”
> 
>                 He shrugged and refilled her champagne glass.  “Half of everything I own is about to be yours, anyway.  You’re the one who told me you were getting tired of the constant travel. Take over Astronomy – you’ll still be in the music business, but you’ll be home with me most nights. I never said I didn’t have ulterior movies.” 
> 
>                 “I couldn’t do this – I couldn’t do both jobs, and besides, it would be a conflict of interest.”
> 
>                 “Probably not,” he replied amiably, sipping his own drink.
> 
>                 “I can’t imagine leaving my job.  He _needs_ me.”
> 
>                 Bruce shrugged.  “He’s got Harley now.  She may not be you quite yet, but she’s got the potential.  You saw it for yourself in Mexico, she’s a tough girl.”
> 
>                 It was true.  Selina thought that Harley was doing even better than she herself had when she had been that new to the business.  Harley dealt with crises well and knew how to think on her feet.  The only question was – how long would she be around?
> 
>                 “They’re not exactly married. I know it seems like they’ve been together forever, but that’s just because we’re used to seeing J get bored in a week and move on.  If they break up, who does my job?”
> 
>                 “We’ll steal whoever’s working for, I don’t know –“ he waved his fork in the air “Kanye West or some other equally difficult personality.  It’s not like we have cash flow issues.”  He put down the fork and took her hand across the table.  “Look, Selina, Astronomy has done well but it hasn’t had aggressive management, and that has always frustrated me. I don’t have time to run it on top of Wayne Enterprises.  Take it, run it, make it the label we both know it could be.”
> 
>                 She could feel her face light up at his words.  Selina knew she would _love_ to run a label herself. She’d certainly seen that job screwed up time and time again by the men who tended to run them, with half the profits eaten up by legal fees after they couldn’t keep their hands off the young talent and got the company sued.   
> 
>                 “Can I think about it for a week?  You’re flying out to see the show in Minneapolis, right?”
> 
>                 “I’m flying out to see _you_. The show is an afterthought.”
> 
>                 Selina smiled.  “I’ll have an answer for you then.”

 She snapped back to the present at the realization that the volume level of the bickering had increased. 

                “Harley.  If you don’t get off your phone, I’m going to turn off the wifi,” the Joker threatened, getting a sulky glare in return.  “I understand you’re upset-“

                “Can’t imagine why,” she muttered, without looking up.

                “I don’t read that bullshit, and you shouldn’t either.  It doesn’t _matter_!”

                “It doesn’t matter to you because, first, you live in L.A. and nobody thinks anything of you having fourteen girlfriends, and second, you’re a guy so this makes you look like a stud.  It makes me look like an idiot!”  Harley complained.  “They have pictures of you two everywhere.”

                He rolled his eyes. “I never had fourteen girlfriends, and those are old pictures.”

                _I can remember eight at once_ , thought Selina, who wisely kept that to herself.

                “Not the one of you holding hands. That was two days ago," snapped Harley. 

                “I was just helping her out of the car.” 

                Harley ignored him and continued on.  “Have you seen this?  It’s all over Youtube.”  Not bothering to wait for an answer, Harley started playing a video from a popular celebrity gossip blog.  The chirpy voice of the host filled the plane.   “Re-emerging after the terrifying incident at his Madison Square Garden concert two weeks ago, the Joker was busy as ever, spotted lunching and shopping with girlfriend Harley Quinn in Beverly Hills.  But our ever-watchful eyes caught him emerging from a limo with old flame Princess Sofia Von Groenewald the very next day, and they looked _very_ cozy.  We know the Joker loves to play with fire, and we can’t wait to see what happens next!”  Harley looked up from the phone and glared.  “I’ll show _her_ what happens next.”

                The Joker shot a look at Selina as Harley went back to thumbing through her phone but Selina just shrugged, secretly a little amused at the trouble he was having.  She knew Harley was going to have to get used to old flames popping up, but she also knew the Joker was going to have to learn to keep them at a distance…and definitely not in the house.  Harley had a temper and was too young and impulsive to handle things the way Selina would have suggested, and the Joker wasn’t used to having a girlfriend or really any woman who expected loyalty, so this was going to be _quite_ an adjustment. 

                “Harley.  Get over it.  If you want the stories to go away, we just do something _interesting_ enough in Chicago to give them something new to talk about.”

                “No, let’s not do that,” Selina interjected, mindful of what the Joker’s idea of _interesting_ could be and worried that he was already grinning. He clearly had something in mind and she was afraid to find out what that might be. 

                She sighed.  The view of Beverly Hills from the glass-walled office at Astronomy was looking better and better, but she knew the Joker would flip out if he heard the news.

* * *

                Harley paced back and forth in the penthouse of the Four Seasons, swearing as she banged her shin on a coffee table.  There was entirely too much furniture in this place.  It was 5:30, the sun was going down and she had absolutely no idea where the Joker was.  She felt sick in the pit of her stomach, as if she’d lost a puppy that had been entrusted to her, and dreaded the thought of the call she was about to have to make to Selina.

                _Damn it._ Maybe she had been a little pissy that morning, but the first thing she’d seen on her phone was a picture of her boyfriend and his ex.  He had his hand in hers and they were practically cheek to cheek and smiling.  Upon further examination of the picture, it was obvious he’d told the truth – he’d helped her out of the car and pulled her to her feet. Of course she’d understood that, given her business interest, Sofia might be also be at the board meeting as J, but it hadn’t occurred to her they were going in the same damn car. 

                It was _possible_ she had overreacted but, damn it, there were only a million girls trying to take her place, and this one was a fucking princess, not to mention an ex-model, as Google had informed Harley during the exhaustive research project she’d conducted at 3 AM in the bathroom.  Surely her reaction was understandable? But that didn’t matter now. She’d been sulky, and he’d gotten progressively more irritated with her.  When she came out of the bathroom after a shower, he was gone and he hadn’t answered her texts or calls. 

                _He’s never missed a show.  He’s just making you sweat._

                _If he misses one now, Selina is going to change her mind in a hurry about the two of you being together being okay._

                Harley thought that Selina had far more power over J than she knew.  She was a human version of an emotional support animal to him; he needed her around, freaked out when she wasn’t, and generally took her advice even if he publicly balked at it.  She could not afford to lose Selina’s good will.  And she definitely didn’t want to lose J, but she also didn’t want to be the typical celebrity girlfriend who turned a blind eye to cheating and just bought herself another expensive gift when it happened.

                _I’d rather be alone than look like an idiot.  I was alone for a long time.  I was fine._

                She stopped pacing and flopped down on the couch, her hands over her eyes, and made an audible groan of frustration and shook her head.  Of course, she’d known this wasn’t going to be easy. Anybody with two IQ points to rub together knew he wasn’t going to be easy. Harley had known exactly what she was getting into, but she’d discovered she had zero power to resist.   

                The noise of the door slamming open startled her and she opened her eyes to see the Joker coming through the door.

                “Hi, sweetheart!”

                _Very drunk.  Awesome._

                He’d at least had the common sense to hide his hair under a ball cap, wear sunglasses, and a hoodie so his tattoos couldn’t be seen, but God only knew where he’d been for the last few hours.  At least he didn’t seem mad anymore.  Harley resolved to bite back her initial desire to vent in the interest of getting him sobered up and on stage in two and a half hours.   She got up and went to him, smiling, and he immediately pulled her into his arms and started kissing her.  Her initial impulse to resist and keep him on track blurred as she sank into his arms and kissed him back.  He tasted like whiskey and cigarettes, which shouldn’t have been appealing, but somehow when it was him, she couldn’t get enough. 

                _8 o’clock show Harley…don’t forget._

                Her voice of reason intruded and she tried to pull back but he turned her against the wall so that she couldn’t and kept kissing her.  She wrapped her arms around him tightly, equally unwilling to let him go and flooded with relief that he’d returned. 

                Finally he let her take a breath.  “Why don’t I call down for some coffee?” she suggested, trying to keep her mind on the task of getting him out of the door and into the limo at a reasonable time. 

                “Why don’t you do that?” he answered, grinning in a way that Harley recognized as his “I’m up to something” smile.  _Oh God what has he done?_

                He let her twist free that time and she went to the phone and called for coffee, still watching him as he moved swiftly over to the desk and sat down at his computer.  It was always amazing to her how drunk he could be and still be perfectly balanced.   She ran into the furniture more than he did, and she did it _sober_. 

                Also, why was he so eager to get on the Internet?

                Harley decided she needed backup and would have to risk getting in trouble so she pulled out her phone and texted Selina.

                **J gone for a few hours, just got back. I have a bad feeling he is up to something.**

                The reply came back in a few seconds. 

                **Find out what. Use your powers of persuasion.**

                Harley tried to nonchalantly wander behind him to find out what he was looking at but he was always aware of his surroundings and, in one quick move, he shut the laptop and spun around to pull her on his lap.  She squeaked in surprise.

                “We uh – we have to be out of here in like fifteen minutes, maybe you should jump in the shower while I wait for room service?” she stuttered.

                “I could, but jumping you sounds like more fun,” he hissed into her ear, pulling her down harder against him.  Despite herself, she shivered again at the feeling. 

                “Uh – room service is probably going to be here in five minutes,” she protested.

                “Ask me how many fucks I give.”  He cackled and she knew resistance was futile, not that she wanted to resist.  Her responsible side might be worried about the time, but the new side of her that had emerged in the past few weeks cared only about touching him as much as possible and never passing up an opportunity to have him inside of her.  Any level of modesty, shame, or restraint she’d formerly possessed had gone _completely_ out the window.  She grinned back and began a slow grind against the hard bulge growing in his jeans.

                He pulled her shirt over her head and spun it around his hand before throwing it so hard it landed on a lamp on the far side of the room.  Harley giggled as he slipped both hands under the cups of her bra and threw her head back with pleasure as his thumbs brushed her nipples before his hands traveled around to her back and unhooked her bra.  Usually he did that almost imperceptibly, but he was just drunk enough that he struggled with it a little.

                “Why are you wearing underwear around me?  New rule…no more of that.”

                Harley was dying to respond with a snarky comment but she just giggled and went for his belt.  He chuckled at her eagerness and stood up to make it easier for her, setting her on her feet and sliding her skirt off her hips as he did so.  She kicked it away as he swung her into his arms and dumped them not-so-gracefully to the carpet. Harley just giggled at the sight of him trying to kick his way out of his jeans.

                “Need some help with that?” she asked sweetly.

                “Oh, you’re just asking for it today, aren’t you?”  He got his feet free and rolled back on top of her, grabbing her wrists and putting them above her head so that he could hold them in place with one hand.  She squirmed against him and threw one leg around him, trying to maneuver herself into place and speed things up.  Harley could feel how wet she was already – there was no reason he needed to wait, but he seemed intent on teasing her as long as possible. He was licking slow circles around a nipple, not quite touching it, as if he had all the time in the world and there wasn’t going to be a knock on their door within minutes.  She twisted under him, feeling the head of his cock hovering around her entrance, sliding back and forth just within her folds and driving her insane.  She tried to wrench a hand free, but his firm grip on her wrists wouldn’t waver. 

                “J…please!  We don’t have much time.”

                He chuckled and raised his head to look at her.  “Say you’re sorry for being a pain in the ass.”

                “I’m sorry! I’m extremely and…” she gasped as he moved up and started to lick and nibble his way up her neck.  “…sincerely sorry.” 

                “I _believe_ you,” he said into her ear.  Still he hesitated, perfectly content to blow in her ear and drive her insane.  She writhed underneath him and let out a ragged moan.  He laughed at her frustration and finally she felt him sliding into her, so slowly she feared he’d withdraw again.  She threw her head back and closed her eyes, lost in the feeling as he filled her up completely.  He hesitated again, not moving and when she opened her eyes, she saw that he was grinning at her. 

                She made a mental note to come up with some sort of extremely creative revenge upon him at another time.  “Please, J?” she begged, giving him her most innocent, wide eyed expression possible. Harley knew it was his undoing and, true to form, he started drilling her into the floor just like she wanted.  She was so turned on that she came within seconds, clenching around him and moaning his name.  He followed suit a minute later, making no effort to be quiet himself.  As they were trying to get their breath back, Harley became dimly aware that someone was knocking on the door.

                “Is everything okay in there?  Sir?”

                Harley heard the click of the key card and squirmed out from the Joker in a panic, dashing for the closest cover she could find, the heavy drapes that bordered the window.  She hid behind them, listening to the Joker nonchalantly dealing with the room service guy and wondering if he’d even managed to get his boxers on before the door opened.  After she heard the sound of the door closing, she peeked out carefully to see her boyfriend, who she was relieved to see _had_ managed to at least put his shorts on, sitting on the bed convulsing with laughter.

                “That was not funny!  Jesus Christ, J!”

                He could hardly talk, he was laughing so hard.  “That was fucking priceless.  Your toes were showing, you know.  He gave me a thumbs-up and I gave him a big tip.”

                “Oh my God. You go to the concert – I’ll be in the closet dying of shame.” 

                He knew he was in trouble for laughing, but how could you _not_ laugh at tiny, naked, angry Harley yelling at you?  She was adorable.  “What are you ashamed of?  You’re the hottest girl on the planet and you’ve got _me_.”

                Harley laughed at his ego despite herself.  “Hotter than Princess what’s-her-name?” she asked.

                “Sweetheart, she’s got more Botox than blood in her.  You might as well fuck a sex doll, it’s less plastic,” he told her with a sneer, before pulling her into his arms and kissing her on the top of her head.  “Now, I’ve got 14 missed calls from Selina so we might want to get out of here.” 

                “Shit!”  Harley twisted away from him and dove for her phone.  _17 missed calls_ and plenty of texts.  She took off at light speed for the bathroom, realizing dimly that she still did not know what he was up to and he was absolutely, positively, up to _something._


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you hate surprises? Then you're literally everybody in this chapter. This day has been a roller coaster for Harley, and she's about to reach the point where you _know_ you shouldn't have had 3 drinks before going on the ride and suspect you are about to puke.
> 
> (Sorry, as usual, for the long breaks between updates)

         “No matter who you think you are; there is always another version waiting to show up.”   
― Bindu Madhav Tata

 

          The show had gone perfectly, despite their last-minute entrance, and Harley’s obsessive checking of her phone had failed to reveal any bad behavior – at least, nothing that had been _discovered_ yet.  She was tired and couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel, but they had to stay for a meet-and-greet after the show.  _Who the hell scheduled that_ , she thought, realizing a second later that she’d done it due to the impossibility of getting the Joker to any venue on anything that resembled the time he was supposed to be there, much less early enough to meet fans.   

          Harley sighed and grabbing her laptop, retreated to the dressing room.   She’d figured out early on that it was best for her to stay out of the way during these events.  After all, it was entirely inappropriate to bitch-slap a 15 year old for trying to feel up your boyfriend (and more importantly, would be recorded by another teenager and on the Internet in an hour).  She reminded herself that there was plenty of security out there to make sure things didn’t get out of hand.  _Still annoying, though._    She let herself into the dressing room and was pleased to find Selina already there – and best of all, she had _coffee_.

          “Oh my God, you are the best. The best ever,” Harley gushed, taking a perfect Venti skim caramel macchiato from Selina’s hand. 

           “I really am,” Selina agreed, smirking.

          Harley flopped into a big velvet armchair that had seen better days but was _super_ comfortable.  “Sorry about earlier. I don’t know where he was. I was more concerned about sobering him up in the car on the way over, and I didn’t want to start a fight and distract him before the show, so I didn’t hassle him about it.”

          Selina nodded.  “You did the right thing.  Look, there’s only so much you can do without putting a GPS tracker on him.”

          Harley looked up from her coffee.  “That’s actually a really good idea.  He had one on _you,_ didn’t he?  Why can’t we do it back to him.”

          “Apart from the fact that he’d kill us, I’m not sure I want the legal liability of knowing where he is at all times.  What kind of a mood was he in when he got back?” Selina asked.

          Harley thought about that for a second.  “Well, he was in a bad mood when he left.  We had a fight, not a really bad one but I was upset about all the press.  He came back, I don’t know, drunk and –“

_And trying very pointedly to distract you with sex, which was a trap you fell into with open arms._

          “-uh, I think he was trying to distract me from asking where he was.”

          Suddenly, Selina's face looked like the wheels had turned and clicked into place, Harley realized.  “What?  Do you know where he was?  What’s going on?”

          Her friend only shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I was just thinking of the possibilities.”  Selina’s lips curled up in a smile.  “Look on the bright side, we haven’t heard sirens yet!”

          “The night is still young,” Harley observed. 

* * *

 

                Several hours and several hundred pictures (permitted and not-so-much) later, the meet and greet was over and they were collecting up the last of their things to head back to the bus.  They were playing Minneapolis next and were hitting the road tonight, which was fine with Harley as she wasn’t eager to go back to the Four Seasons and risk running into the bellhop who had practically walked in on them again.  She loaded her arms up with bags, ignoring the protests of the roadie tasked with that job that he didn’t need help. 

                “It’s good for me, I can use the exercise,” Harley told him.  It would be too easy to fall into the trap of behaving like a spoiled brat now that she was the boss’s girlfriend, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.  She liked the whole crew and didn’t want to see their perception of her change.  Harley threw her shoulder into the door, opening it, and headed out to the bus, mustering a smile and a wave at the line of fans that still stood behind the security barriers and guards, wanting that one last glimpse of the band before they boarded the bus.  A hundred flashes went off in her face from cellphones.  _Oh well, at least they caught me working instead of something embarrassing!_

                “Harley!  Harley!  Can I get your autograph?”  The voice cut through the crowd, high and young.  She looked over and a girl who couldn’t have been more than 12 was holding out a notebook.   So were her friends. She was startled at first.  _Me?_

                “Here, Harley, I can take all that.”  Marty, the roadie, was beside her in an instant, pulling her bags off her shoulders.  “Go,” he urged her.  “They’re kids, make ‘em happy.”

                “Thanks…” she told him and started toward the crowd, still not understanding why anybody cared about her autograph, but remembering Selina’s oft-repeated admonition about making the fans happy, _especially_ now that the fans all had cell phones with internet.   A couple of signatures and selfies wouldn’t slow her down much, and it was good P.R. for the band.

* * *

 

                The bathroom door slammed open and Selina slipped inside.

                “Jesus Christ, Kitty!”  The Joker grabbed for a towel; he hadn’t _actually_ been peeing but he _had_ been standing at the mirror naked examining his body for imperfections after a quick shower, and he wasn’t about to admit that to her.

                “When are you going to tell Harley about where you were today?”

                He wrapped the towel around his waist and tucked it in.  “You say that like it would be a good idea.”  He tried to give her his most charming, roguish smile but from the look on her face and the way her arms were folded firmly across her chest, it was getting him nowhere. 

                “ I say that because she’s going to be pissed as hell if she finds out from someone else.”

                “How is she going to find out what even the gossip rags haven’t found out?  She’s not a CIA operative.”  He walked over to the counter and grabbed his shorts from the pile of clothes there, dropping the towel and stepping into them. 

                Selina rolled her eyes.  The sight certainly wasn’t going to distract _her_. 

                “I wouldn’t underestimate her if I were you.” 

          He shrugged at her words as he zipped up his jeans.  “Look, I’ve been with Harley a month, would you agree it might be a good idea to _stagger_ the shocking revelations a bit?  She’s smart and she handles things well but she’s still a farm girl from Nebraska whose parents are still married.  And besides, we’re leaving tonight, and it won’t be an issue.”

               “It is an issue,” Selina insisted. 

               The Joker stared at her.  There was more going on than she was letting on, and now he wanted to get to the bottom of it. 

               “Why the rush?”  She flickered her eyes sideways for a second at his question.  _I knew it._

               Selina took a deep breath.  “I – Bruce wants me to come work for him at Astronomy. Full time.”  She expected him to get angry but instead he let out a long, cackling laugh.

               “Of _course_ he does.  So your sudden concern for my relationship with Harley just has to do with making sure she sticks around because you’re about to bail out!  Oh, Kitty, you should know by now how transparent you are.”   He was grinning, but she knew it wasn’t that he was happy for her.

               “Harley’s very capable.  She’s at least as good as I was my first year.  But if she finds out and bolts, then we have a problem. She’s not easily replaceable from where I’m standing, and I think she’s even less replaceable from where you’re standing.”

               He stopped laughing.  “What does that mean?”

               “Don’t play dumb with me and don’t forget I know you better than anyone,” Selina responded. 

               The Joker turned away, ostensibly to pull his t-shirt over his head, but Selina knew he didn’t want her looking at his face.  “Look, she’s what, 21?  She isn’t going to stick around anyway.  She’ll do this for a few years, get burned out, decide she misses Nebraska and decent God-fearing people and the next thing you know she’ll be back on the farm, happy to be the most famous person in town with the best stories.  She’ll probably write a book about me.”  He turned back around.  “You belong here. You belong in this life.  You _love_ the road.”

               Selina wasn’t about to deny it.  “I do. But I love Bruce more, and that’s where I want to be now.  I want to wake up in the same bed, with the same man. I want Damien to like me. I want to do family things and walk on the beach and…go to brunch on Sunday mornings.”   She stepped up to look him in the eye.  “I want that more, and I can't have both.”

               “You’re abandoning me for _brunch_?  That’s just great, Kitty.  Remind me again who you were when we met?  Oh wait… _I know_!  You were absolutely nobody, out here like a million other girls with a fake name, trying not to call home for a little shot of dirty money into your empty bank account.  You’re who you are _because of me._ The only reason you ever got near enough to a billionaire to start banging him is _because of me._ ”

               She wasn’t about to sink to his level and, anyway, he was _delusional_ if that’s what he thought.  “I got where I got because of me,” Selina responded calmly. “You, on the other hand, might want to recall whose family name saved your ass two weeks ago.”

               He didn’t even pause at that.  “I wonder what Mr. Law and Order would think if he knew about all the shit you’ve had a hand in covering up over the years,” the Joker hissed.  “I bet that would really be a…surprise to him.”

               Selina stopped before she got to the door and looked back over her shoulder at him. She had been expecting an outburst and he didn't disappoint. “You have more to lose than I do, so if I were you, I’d zip it.”

               He said nothing, just stood there breathing hard in his fury.  She knew that if there had been something to break, it would be broken by now, and was grateful they’d had this conversation in a room with nothing valuable. 

               “I’ll stay on until the end of this tour.”

               She slipped out the door as quietly as she had entered and was not surprised to hear the smack of what sounded like a shoe against the bathroom door as it closed behind her.

* * *

 

               When Selina got outside, she was surprised to see there was still a crowd.  They were clustered as close as they could get to Harley, who had been roped into taking hundreds of selfies and signing everything from notebooks to albums to a girl’s shoulder.  Harley saw her come out and raised her eyebrows at Selina in an obvious appeal for help. 

               Selina strode over, her boots clacking on the pavement.  “All right, Ms. Quinn has to go now,” she announced in an authoritative voice as she put an arm around Harley’s shoulders and turned her toward the bus.  “You _can_ tell them you have to leave, you know,” she told her.

               “I didn’t want to disappoint anybody. I remember when I was one of them,” Harley responded.

               “I’m sure you were very nice and there’ll be three fan websites devoted to you by morning," Selina said, marching her away at a brisk pace.

               “What?  Why?”

               “Come on, let’s get to the bus.  There’s something I have to tell you.”

* * *

 

               After the Joker’s reaction, Harley’s was refreshing.  While she was clearly a little concerned about not having Selina around, she reacted like a good friend would, with happiness that Selina was going to be with the man she loved and combining it with a new job that she was incredibly excited about.

               “J is not as happy about the news, as you might imagine, so as soon as he gets in here, don’t talk about it,” Selina told her as they both changed into comfy clothes for the trip. 

               “No worries!” Harley called cheerfully from the bathroom, where she was taking off her makeup, still in a good mood from her encounter with the fans.  She re-emerged with her hair in a ponytail, looking all of 16 once more.  “I mean, I’m not happy you’re leaving but I’m happy you’re happy, you know?”    

               Selina laughed.  “I know.  Well, maybe you can-“  Her phone rang, interrupting their conversation and she answered it.  “Selina Kyle.”  She listened for a moment.  “Yes, you did the right thing.  Bring her here.  Yes, to the bus.   And don’t let her talk to anybody on the way!”  She ended the call and looked at Harley, sitting cross-legged on the couch and opened her mouth to say something when the Joker careened up the steps into the bus, still looking furious.  He tried to just charge past them both, heading for his bedroom, but Selina caught him by the arm.

               “Not now,” he growled at her.

               “Sorry, your majesty, but there’s a girl with a cancelled check in her hand and a lot of questions heading our way.  Now.”

               The Joker’s jaw dropped open and he shot a look at Harley.

               “What is going on?” Harley asked.

               “Kitty, can you deal with this for a moment while I talk to Harley?” the Joker asked, switching back to his sweetest tone.  _Like flipping a damn light switch,_ Selina thought, marveling at his acting talents. 

               “J, I-“  Selina barely got it out before there was a firm knock on the door.  She sighed.    _Let him deal with his own shit, he’s going to have to after I leave, anyway,_ she thought.  _And better see what Harley is going to do sooner than later._ “Come in,” she called out. 

               They all heard a double set of footsteps on the bus’s steps.  Harley’s exhausted mind spun…a girl with a check for what?  _What the hell was he doing writing a check in this day and age?  Oh my God I’m losing my mind, I’m more worried that he wrote a check with his name on it than I am that he might have been with a hooker!_ She wondered if pulling a quilt over her head and ignoring the latest crisis was even an option.

               When the girl came into the living room of the bus, it was obvious she wasn’t a hooker.  She didn’t even look legal ( _great,_ Harley thought) and she didn’t look poor; she was dressed expensively, carrying a small Vuitton bag, and had highlights in her hair that had not come cheap. 

               “You can go now. This didn’t happen,” Selina said to the security guard, walking up to him and handing him a folded wad of cash.  He looked at it happily.  “Yes ma’am.  I went home a half hour ago.”  He beat a hasty retreat and they were all left looking at the girl, who was smart enough to wait until the guard left to start talking.  The Joker sunk into the couch next to Harley, a resigned look on his face.  

               The girl pulled out a handful of photocopies and fanned them out on the coffee table in front of her.  

               “I found these checks a while ago, but I didn’t know what TAJ, LLC was,” the girl said, sounding both confident and sarcastic at the same time.  “Imagine my surprise when I finally looked it up and found its parent company, Take a Joke.  Gotta love the Internet.”

               Selina interrupted her.  “Liza, does your mother know you’re here?  She must be worried.  It’s late.” 

               “I left a note.  She’s drunk again. She’s always drunk.”

               “So am I!” the Joker answered. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t worry about you if you were missing at one in the morning.”

               Liza rolled her eyes.  “How would you even know?  You just send her five thousand dollars a month and do this weird drive-by stalking thing when you're in town. I thought you were a serial killer until I figured it out!”

               Harley looked at her, a sick feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. The blue eyes were the same, as was the sarcasm…could sarcasm be genetic?  _I am too tired for this to happen. Can this go away and happen later?  Like September of 2062. That would be good._

               The Joker cleared his throat.  “Your father was my very good friend and-“

               “Cut the bullshit, would you?”  Liza stepped toward him, fire in her eyes.  “I found the paperwork. The paternity suit that you had sealed. I know you’re my father and I’m sick of living with my drunken bitch of a mother.  I’m seventeen.   You can let me stay, or I can call TMZ and sell this story for enough money to get an apartment. Your choice!” 

               Selina looked at the Joker and some sort of signal must have passed between them, because she pulled out her phone and departed for the back bedroom to make a call.  The girl sat down on the couch, untangling her backpack from her shoulders and plopping it at her feet.  She kicked off her shoes and then turned, finally seeming to notice Harley’s presence.  A big smile spread across her face.    

               “Who are you?  Are you a _groupie_?” she asked.

               Harley just put her head in her hands.  _Stick a fork in me, I am done with this day._

               


	30. Chapter 30

_"Life isn't black and white. It's a million gray areas, don't you find?"_

_― Ridley Scott_             

 

                Harley had retreated to the bedroom at the back of the bus, slamming the door, but that did nothing as the Joker and Selina were right behind her.

               “It never occurred to either one of you to mention this?” Harley ranted.  She was actually more pissed off at Selina; weren’t they _friends_?

               “Lower your voice,” Selina shot back, earning herself a glare. 

               “I _thought_ it was handled,” the Joker snapped, himself glaring at Selina.  “But then I guess you don’t care what happens since you’re halfway out the door anyway.”

               Selina stayed calm as always.  “Look, first things first, we can’t kidnap a 17 year old that you have no parental rights to,” Selina pointed out.  “I have an idea.  It’s going to cost you.”

               The Joker shrugged.  “Whatever it takes.  Write some checks.”

               “Yeah, throw some money around and fix everything. Selina, before you leave, we’ll have to review how much money I’m supposed to throw at the various kinds of problems…you know, ex-girlfriends, photographers he assaults, children I didn’t know existed,”  Harley interjected, waving her hand dramatically.

               The Joker just rolled his eyes.  “Selina, go call who you need to call, would you?  _Thank_ you.”  Selina picked up on the implicit message to give them some privacy and went into the bathroom to make the call.  He looked at his girlfriend, who looked about as rebellious as his daughter right now and tried not to think about the fact that they were four years apart in age.  She stood there, her hands on her hips and her eyes blazing.

               “What else don’t I know?” she asked.

               He sat down on the bed across from her. “Almost everyone who’s been this close to me has used whatever they could learn in some way for their own benefit.  Yes, there are things Selina knows that you don’t.  It's that I've known her longer.  It’s not personal-“

               “It’s not _personal_?”  Harley jumped back up, irritated, although she did heed Selina’s earlier request to keep her voice to an angry stage whisper.  “Should I make you a list of all of the stuff I’ve kept my mouth shut about so far?  What more do I have to do, write your name in my blood to prove my loyalty?  Jesus Christ, J.  How do you forget to mention you have a _child_?”

               “We were a little busy with other things, don’t you _think_?  And it’s not like I have one living in my house.”

               “Yeah, care to explain how this happened or why she isn’t?”

               He sighed, willing himself not to respond in the same tone.  “I did not have anything resembling a relationship with her mother.   She was just one of a bunch of girls we were partying with in Chicago, and I believed her when she said she was on the pill.  Obviously _not_ the case.”

               Harley bit back a snarky remark, knowing she wanted to hear the whole story more than she wanted to score a point, and he continued.

               “I didn’t even know she existed at first. Tricia was in a relationship with another guy that she hoped to marry and tried to pass Liza off as his at first.  He found out when she was three and walked out.”

               “That poor kid,” Harley mumbled. 

               “So I got a call from Tricia's attorney. Tricia never wanted me to meet Liza or have a relationship with her. She only wanted a monthly check.”

               “And you didn’t object to that,” Harley stated. 

               “No, I didn't!  I've never missed a payment, that kid has the best of everything.  This is not someone who’s a part of my life!”

               “But that’s not normal!” Harley yelled.

               “Sweetheart, what do you think about my life is normal?  Please, give me a list, based upon your experiences the past few months.  I’m _dying_ to hear.”

               She looked down at him, annoyed that he had a point.  “Just tell me.  Are there any more?”

               He shook his head.  “Not that I’m aware of, and I’m sure I would have heard by now.  Everybody wants a check.”

               Harley shook her head. “I just wanted a little honesty, and before you ask, _no_ , you can’t give me a check instead.” 

               She headed out of the bedroom, irritated at the fact that she couldn’t slam the sliding door, and was relieved to find the bus empty.  While she was still sitting there trying to decide on a good way to proceed that made it clear she was not a doormat but did not involve quitting her job and breaking up with him, she heard the familiar sound of Selina’s high-heeled boots on the bus’s steps.  Selina muttered something to the driver, and they were rolling before her friend came into view.  Harley was surprised to see that she was alone.

               “Where’s Liza?”

               “On her way home in an Uber.”  Selina stopped at the bar to pour two glasses of wine and handed one to Harley before sitting down, setting the bottle on the table between them. 

               Harley shook her head in wonder. “You’re a magician. How did you accomplish that?”

               “Even when someone doesn't want cash, we have something far more valuable to trade. Access.”  Selina took a long drink of her wine.  “I've always monitored her social media, and she wants a career in fashion. I’m sending her to Paris, to a friend of mine, as soon as she can get her passport.  Summer internship, and she can stay there for school if she likes it – which my friend will guarantee she does.”

               “How do you know she won’t tell the world that J is her father?”

               “Because I told her the closest she’d get to a fashion career was selling socks at Wal-Mart if she did." Selina smiled.  "She believes me."

               “And she doesn’t want a relationship with her father?”  Harley was incredulous.

               “She’s happy with the current relationship. The one where he sends checks.”

               Harley raised her glass and Selina met it with hers in a toast. 

               “J always says there’s no problem you can’t solve.  Promise me you’ll still answer the phone after you leave?”

               “Always.  Where’s J?  Sulking in his room?”

               Harley sighed. “Pretty much.  He doesn’t seem to understand why I’m upset. Is it that hard to be honest about, I don’t know, the fact that you have a kid?”

               “In his defense, he thought you’d already had too much thrown at you recently.” Harley said nothing and they drank in silence for a while.  Selina thumbed through her phone, reading the reviews from the show and answered a few emails. When she looked up, she noticed that Harley looked troubled again. 

               “What's wrong?”

               “It’s just – Look, I feel like I’m not a very good person anymore.  I was never, you know, a saint but tonight, I just wanted Liza _gone_.  I think I could have run her over with this bus without any qualms.  And it’s not her fault!  She’s just a kid.”

               Selina stopped typing and came around the table to sit down next to Harley, sliding an arm around her shoulders which was  _very_ un-Selina like.   _I must really look upset,_ Harley thought.

               “Here's the deal.  If you were in Nebraska, and your boyfriend ran the liquor store, and some oops child of his showed up, it would be good gossip for a week or two and then it would be over.  Right?"

               "Well, yeah.  Would depend on whose kid got arrested for shoplifting or whose husband got caught with a hooker that month."

               "Right, because the scandals of average people don't hold the public's attention for long.  Your boyfriend is one of the most famous rock stars in the world.  An out of control teenage daughter giving interviews can cause a lot of drama we don't need.  The middle of a tour is a bad time for a scandal.”

               “Is there a _good_ time for one?”

               Selina smiled.  “Yes.  After you die.  Then, no matter _what_ you’ve done, people feel bad speaking ill of you.”

               Harley couldn’t help laughing at that.  “Great, only another forty or so years to keep everybody quiet.”  Selina laughed as well, but then her face turned serious. 

               “You’re not with a man.  You’re with a brand.  It’s our job to protect the brand.  By doing so, we protect the jobs of hundreds of people. Maybe thousands.  Think about that if you need to feel like a better person."  Selina stood up.  "Now, I’m going to bed.  Are you taking a couch or are you going in there?”

               “Just one question. That’s the only one, right?”

               “Kid?  Yes.” 

               Harley nodded and drained her glass before standing up.  _I should have asked if that’s the only major thing I don’t know about,_ she thought, _but I might be afraid of the answer._ She walked to the back of the bus and opened the bedroom door as quietly as she could, relieved that the Joker seemed to be asleep already.  Harley stepped out of her shoes and stepped out of her jeans before slipping quietly under the covers beside him.  He stirred and she froze, not wanting to wake him, but all he did was throw an arm over her and mumble something incoherent. She snuggled closer to him and was asleep almost instantly. 

* * *

                By the time the sun came up, they were in Detroit, the next stop on the tour.  Harley was looking forward to this show as a bit of a breather. Instead of the usual huge production, the Joker was performing at a private party for an elite group of businessmen in the automotive industry.  It was a little-known fact outside the music industry that anyone, no matter how famous, could be purchased for a price to play your event.  If you had the cash to throw around, you could easily have any A-lister on stage for you and your friends, and Farhad Mansour definitely had the money.  Apparently, he had some out of town guests he wanted to impress – and he was sparing no expense to do just that.

               Harley had gotten up early and was already dressed and surfing the internet when the Joker woke up and came looking for her.  He was happy to find her smiling, even if it wasn’t at him.

               “You look less murderous this morning. Am I going to live?  You can’t kill me before tonight, we’ll lose two million dollars.” 

               She looked up over her laptop screen and raised her eyes at him.  He was standing there in his sweat pants and nothing else, grinning at her, and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling back. Harley wasn’t sure how she was ever going to manage to stay mad at him, between the fact that he was _hot as fuck_ and his endless ability to make her laugh even when she knew she should be angry.

               “We?  I haven’t noticed my name on your bank account,” she quipped back.

               He shrugged.  “Want it to be?  I’ll call the bank.”

               “I was kidding.”

               The Joker grabbed a cup of coffee and smacked the laptop shut with one hand as he slid into the seat next to her.  “Wouldn’t bother me.  If it makes you happy, I’ll put you on there.  Actually, I like that idea.  Signing checks is a pain in the ass. Then you can do it.”

               Harley laughed.  “I can’t tell if I should be flattered that you trust me that much or just amazed that you’re so lazy you’d risk millions of dollars to avoid doing paperwork.”

               “I do a few things very, _very_ well.  In exchange, I get to avoid doing all the other shit.”  He winked at her as she picked up a sheaf of papers. 

               “Well, you have to sign your name a little bit tonight.  We promised all the autographs and selfies they want, but it’s only a hundred people.  Just a bunch of executives and their wives.  The party starts at 7 and you play at 8 PM.  Shouldn’t be a late night unless you want it to be.”

               He caught her wrist as she flipped through the paperwork.

               “I should have told you.”

               She nodded.  “Yeah, you should have.  Of course, once Selina’s gone, you’re going to have a hard time paying off anyone without my knowing it about, especially given your aversion to signing checks so…problem solved.”

               He was quiet for a moment. “About that.  You’re her friend.  Why don’t you try to change her mind about leaving?”

               “I don’t think I can compete with the love of her life.  She’d rather hang out with him.”

               “Yeah, but working together can ruin your relationship,” the Joker observed in his most serious tone, which Harley immediately recognized was _complete_ self-serving bullshit.

               She stood up and handed him the papers.  “You’re so right. I wouldn’t want to risk ours, so I think I’ll go have a spa day and do some shopping.”

               Without missing a beat, the Joker got up, went into his wallet that was lying on the counter, and handed her a black American Express card.  “Have fun.  The pin is my birthday backwards, and if there’s a limit, I haven’t found it.”

               Harley tilted her head, looking at the card in her hand for a moment.  It didn’t even _feel_ like a regular credit card.  She sighed.

               “It’s really hard to stay mad at you, you know that?”

               He smirked at her as he flopped back down on the couch.  “That’s the idea, sweetheart.  You get to decide what my transgressions should cost me.  Or…” he drawled slowly.  “We could go Monday in Toronto, which has better stores and then we won’t have to hurry.  Have you ever been there?”

               Harley didn’t have a chance to answer as Selina swept in, carrying several bags and, Harley was happy to see, a tray with coffee.   _Coffee makes everything better,_ she thought.

               “Here you go,” Selina told her, handing over the tray.  “I brought a bag of fresh scones, too, I figured it’s been a stressful week and you might need some carbs.”  She took the other cup herself and sat down, pulling out her tablet immediately.

               “Where’s mine?” the Joker asked.

               “I didn’t know if Harley had killed you by now and I didn’t want to waste four dollars,” Selina answered in her sweetest tone.  Harley just smiled and worked on extracting a cinnamon scone from the bag without getting sugar everywhere. 

               “You’re both fired.  So, I assume Mansour let you on the property?” he asked.

               “I didn’t give him an option. I told him I was coming in there with security for an hour this morning or you wouldn’t be there tonight, no matter what he was willing to pay you.  He doesn’t seem used to taking orders from a woman, but I’m confident I can expand his horizons.”

               Harley giggled. She had seen Selina deal with guys like that before and it never got old.  “Thanks for handling that.  You could have woken me up to go with you.”

               Selina shook her head.  “Don’t worry about it.  You needed some rest after yesterday.”

               “Everything look okay?”

               “A little too much so,” Selina answered.

               That got the Joker’s attention.  “Gun towers at all corners?”

               “Not quite that blatant but…it’s designed so you can’t get near it. Like someone was thinking about defending it in war, not where to put the pool.  On the plus side, there’s little chance of any fans crashing the party.”

               “What are you thinking?” Harley asked.  “You checked this guy out, right?”

               Selina nodded.  “Of course.  Through official channels.  Now that I’ve seen the place, I’ve sent out an inquiry to the unofficial sources.  Mansour’s only been in the country for three years.  He showed up here with deep pockets and has taken full advantage of the struggling economy here to buy up property.” 

               “Anywhere else, or just here?”  the Joker asked. 

               “Here…and a big ranch in Noyes, Minnesota." 

               “Very, very interesting, Kitty.  Border towns.”  He and Selina exchanged a look.  “I may have to spend a little extra time with our host tonight. See what he’s into.” 

               Selina rolled her eyes at his words.  “I understand that no one has shot at you this month and you’re a little bored, but let’s try to just collect the money on this one.  I can find out more about Mr. Mansour when we’re not all at his property.”

               “So he’s not in the car business?” Harley asked.  She leaned over and saw that he already had Google Earth up and was checking out the mansion and the surrounding grounds. 

               “J, I’m serious.  I agree it smells a little off but let it go for tonight. 8 songs and _out_.”  Selina shot Harley a look that made it clear she expected them to be on the same page, and Harley nodded.

               “Yes ma’am,” the Joker mumbled, without looking up.  

* * *

 

               She had thought she’d already seen it all this year, but Harley found it was impossible not to stare as she looked around the party.  It was as if Mr. Mansour had decided to replicate a party like the Met Gala at his very own house.  Technically, they were in a backyard, but it was impossible to recognize it as such.  A raised stage had been built along the back of the property.  There was a merry-go-round on the left side, draped in silver and gold and decorated everywhere with colorful lights.  The tables were similarly draped with glittering scarves and each had a bucket at the center with a bottle of Armand de Brignac champagne chilling.  Waiters slipped in and out of the crowd refilling glasses and plates; the women in barely-there silver dresses and the men in fitted black pants and stretchy silver tops to show off their muscular builds.  They seemed to have been hand-selected to fit the party’s aesthetic, Harley observed.  As she looked around, trying not to stare, she wondered if Mansour had picked the guests using the same standard.  There were certainly no women here who were not beautiful.

               “This is crazy,” she whispered to Selina as they pretended to wander aimlessly around the party, drinks in hand. She knew that there was nothing aimless about it; the place set off Selina’s radar and she was making sure they circulated well enough to see everyone on the guest list.

               Selina smiled.  “This is excessive.  New money.”  Her tone made it clear _she_ wasn’t that impressed.     

               Harley had succumbed to the desire to have all eyes on her after the stressful week she’d had and was wearing a violet and gold halter dress that tied behind her neck and had an asymmetrical hemline cut high up on one side but dusting the ground on the other.  Selina, on the other hand, wore a very simple cream-colored dress that looked stunning on her, vintage style and fitted with a sweetheart neckline and a pair of utterly stunning gold Hermes sandals. 

               “So, get this, my mom emailed me this morning. There are fan pages to me all over the Internet.  Her cousin’s daughter found them.”  Harley looked incredulous.  “I’m not a performer.  It’s crazy.”

               “I could have told you that was coming. You’ve done a few interviews and you’re getting photographed all the time.  You don’t have to be an artist these days. You can be an _influencer._   Don’t scoff at it, some of those girls are living off their social media. Come on, let’s work our way over there and see the house.”  She put a hand on Harley’s shoulder and steered her to the left. 

               “Ew.  I don’t want to be famous for being famous.  I want to accomplish something with my life,” Harley muttered to Selina as they both smiled cheerfully at a group of gray-haired businessmen congregating around the poolside bar.  The pool itself had been covered over and made into a dance floor for this occasion, and there was a DJ set up to keep the crowd entertained until the Joker’s show began.

               “You accomplished not killing J last night, I personally thought that was pretty impressive.”

               “Selina, I’m serious.  If I’m going to, I don’t know, have this kind of attention, I want to do something with it. I don’t know, maybe something with a charity?”

               Selina considered that.  “We’ll talk about that.  That’s a good idea.  J could certainly use the positive publicity as long as we choose well.  So many of those things are scams.”

               They saw their host coming toward them.  Farhad Mansour was in his late 40’s, a slightly overweight man who hid it well in the best suit money could buy.  He had the perpetually stressed look that Harley was used to seeing with music executives in L.A., and like them, never let go of his cell phone, although he did swap it to his left hand so that he could shake theirs with his right. 

               “Miss – “

               “Quinn.  It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Mansour.”  Harley gave him her most charming smile as he took two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed them to her and Selina. 

               “The pleasure is all mine. I’m surprised you’re not the one on the stage.  You are far too beautiful to wait in the wings.  As is Ms. Kyle.”

               “We both prefer the business end of things,” Selina told him.

               “So I’ve heard,” Mansour shot back, with a look that made it perfectly clear he was aware of Selina’s connections outside of the music industry.  “I haven’t heard much at all about you,” he said, turning his attention back to Harley.  “You seem to have come out of nowhere.”

               “Nebraska, so you’re not wrong,” Harley answered.

               He laughed.  “You do not look like a girl from Nebraska.”

               Selina rolled her eyes, irritated at both their flirting host and Harley’s failure to blow him off without being prompted.  “I brushed off the hay before I brought her here.  You’re welcome.  Now if you’ll excuse us, we need to make sure things are going smoothly.”  She took Harley by the hand and led her off.

               “What?”  Harley asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

               “The only performance he’s entitled to is the one he paid for.  We don’t have to entertain him all evening.” 

               “I didn’t mind!”

               Selina shot her a look.  “If you want to flirt with someone and make J jealous, I’ll give you a list of guys in L.A. that will really piss him off.   I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve it.  I’m saying that this place makes me nervous.”

               “You really think there’s something shady going on here?”

               “I’m certain of it and I don’t want to find out the details tonight.  Eight songs and _out_.”

               They reached the curtains that shielded the area behind the stage from the rest of the property.  Selina nodded to security and the guards pulled them back, allowing the two of them to enter.  They were relieved to find the Joker exactly where he was supposed to be.  In fact, the whole band looked unusually relaxed, but Harley guessed that was to expected.  A private party meant the entire production was downscaled; tonight was just J, Eddie and Ozzie and a very minimal crew.  From Harley and Selina’s point of view, that meant a lot less moving parts – and moving people.

               “ _This_ is awesome,” Ozzie said, relaxing in an old-style recliner in the surprisingly nice temporary green room that had been set up.  “Can we do this every weekend?”

               Harley was happy to see he looked a lot less stressed. He’d been an anxious mess for most of this tour, between the drama with his marriage, the incident in New York and their unscheduled trip to Mexico, and she’d been wondering if he was going to manage to hold it together.  He’d be almost completely impossible to replace; he had his own fan following that hung on his every word on social media and was probably more excited to see him than the Joker. 

               “I wish,” Harley answered.  “I love this. Especially having only one stage that doesn’t move around!  Those things freak me out.”                

               “I haven’t fallen off a stage!” the Joker protested, but when he caught sight of Selina’s raised eyebrows, he amended his comment.  “Well, not recently, anyway.”

               Harley grinned at him and sat down on his lap. He slipped his arms around her waist and gave her a squeeze.  “Don’t worry, honey, Selina will tell me all the details later.”

               He rolled his eyes.  “I won’t miss that.”

               “What do you mean?” Eddie asked.  He had been intently focused on something on his iPad and hadn’t seemed to be listening, but he caught the Joker’s remark.

               “Forgot I hadn’t made the formal announcement.  Selina’s leaving us after the tour. Going to go sit in an office at Astronomy and be a boring old married woman.”

               “ _Speaking_ of things that haven’t been formally announced.”  Selina glared at him before focusing on the other guys.  “That doesn’t leave this room, all right?”

               Ozzie started laughing.  “No way. You _scored_. _I’d_ marry him.  Damn.”  

               “So, wait…” Eddie mused.  “Never mind, I don’t even want to go down that rabbit hole.  Definitely not before a show.”

               The Joker laughed.  “All right, I suppose we should get out there before the riots begin.”   He kissed Harley before he let her off his lap.  “You girls behave and don’t start any fights during the show,” he called out.   

               Harley and Selina smiled but said nothing. 


End file.
